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IT CAN BE FASHIONABLE
TO BE UNFASHIONABLE
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Look hard enough, and you can always find a bright side to
every pandemic. For me, it was not having to dress up.
Formal weddings were canceled or postponed, business meetings
were held on Zoom, and fancy cocktail parties were a thing of the past. I
could wear jeans and a polo shirt every...single....day. Pure bliss.
Not anymore. I was reminded that the pandemic was in the
rear-view mirror, at least for now, when my wife interrupted my fascination
with the Cal-Arizona football game last Saturday to tell me it was time to
get dressed for the charity gala we were attending that evening.
"We're not leaving for 30 minutes," I responded.
"I only need five minutes to get dressed."
"I want you to look nice," she said, switching off
the television. "It's going to take some time."
She grabbed my hand and pulled me towards the bedroom. I felt
like I was five years old, and told her so.
"I've seen a lot of five-year olds who dress better than
you," she said as she dragged me toward my pathetic closet. "Let's
see what we've got."
She pulled out a relatively new sportcoat (bought
sometime this century) and tried to match it with some slacks that hadn't
seen the light of day in many years. After expressing her disgust about six
times, she reluctantly offered me some pants to try on.
I pulled them on and, miraculously, they still fit.
Unfortunately, there were also several stains from the last time they were
worn. Out they went, and she tossed me her second choice. These had some
spots that could be cleaned with a washcloth.
"Sorry I'm not a metrosexual," I said, referring to
the outdated term that is defined as 'a straight male who is especially
meticulous about his grooming and appearance, typically spending a
significant amount of time and money on shopping.'
"You're closer to a Neanderthal," she responded as
she started looking for shirts that wouldn't embarrass her. "I wouldn't
mind something in between."
While she was painfully looking for an appropriate shirt,
I took the time to investigate metrosexuals. It turns out most women desire
metrosexual men who are well-groomed, according to a study conducted from
dating apps.
I took a quick test to make sure I wasn't one of them.
There are five signs:
1. He frequently looks in the mirror and admires himself. (The
last time that happened I was 23 years old)
2. He is quite picky about housework. (Why make the bed when
you're just going to sleep in it again?)
3. He enjoys dressing up. (See above)
4. He critiques your attire. (Metrosexuals are dumber than I
thought)
5. He enjoys grooming and hairstyles. (Absolutely not)
It was kind of fun to be in full agreement with my wife. There
was no question she had married the anti-metrosexual. Nevertheless, she
didn't want to give up. She was intent on making her little five-year old
slob look good for the night, just like she did in the pre-pandemic years.
She picked out a shirt that somewhat matched my ensemble and
ordered me to put it on, which I did. I fastened the top button in
anticipation of the tie and almost lost consciousness. What fun. I gloomily
sat down to put on my shoes and socks.
"OH, MY GOD, NO!" she cried when she saw the socks I
had picked out, which were very non-descript. "Those have blue
dots, you need black dots."
I'm not kidding. Off they went, replaced with the
identical sock, but with black dots. I felt so much more together.
Finally, it was time for the clincher, the tie. As she looked
through my tie rack that actually has about 30 ties I've been given over the
years, most of which I've never worn, she found it hard to disguise her
disgust.
"These wide ties went out of style about 30 years
ago," she said, flipping through them like they were slimy snakes.
"Can you please go shopping someday?"
"Just wait a few more years," I answered.
"They'll be back in style and I'll be the metrosexual you've always
wanted."
She snorted, but then brightened slightly when she found a
thinner one that was possibly a match. She placed it against my shirt,
snorted again, and announced it would have to do.
I added it to my strangled neck and off we went. I told her she
looked ravishing, and then asked her how I looked.
Considering that she dressed me, you'd think she'd have been
more complimentary.
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