As some of you may (or may not) have suspected, I’m pretty much a guy’s guy.
I’m about a million miles away from even resembling the scent of anything close to a metro-sexual. (Not that there’s anything wrong with being a so-called sexual being of the metro persuasion.)
I wouldn’t doubt that some of my best friends are probably dousing themselves in “Odour de Beckham” and plucking their eyebrows and sniffing their armpits before applying some sort of gel that automatically combats B.O. and shrivels back and shoulder hair at the same time.
But I don’t do that. It’s too much effort.
My wife, who loves me for some reason or the other, just shrugs her shoulders and says, “You know, you don’t have to spiffy-fy your entire life but it wouldn’t hurt my feelings if we went out sometime and you didn’t wear jeans, tennis shoes (she calls ’em ‘trainers’), and a hat dripping with hair grease.”
The only reason I wear jeans is because they’re comfy, the shoes are there because I’m flat footed and any other footwear causes back pain and migraines (my theory) and I wear the hat only because science has proved that bald men lack the ‘radar’ that normal hair provides (look at any bald man and you will see that they have scab upon scab on their noggin. It’s because hair acts as a kind of sonar/radar/sensory tactile instrument for humans. If it’s not there (hair) you will smack your head on everything. Seriously. NO! SERIOUSLY! Shave your head and I guarantee you will bash your brain case on things you totally took for granted…like door handles and toilet seats.).
Anyway, today I bought not one but TWO pairs of jeans and they cost me the grand total of 8 British Pounds (about $14 dollars).
I’m happy and you people in America are probably saying, “Yeah, that’s a good price, but so what?”
Well, I’m more than happy because a pair of Levi’s over here can cost about 100 pounds a pop (that’s $189 to you and me, kids).
The cheap jeans I bought are definitely NOT Levi’s and I don’t care. My point is fashion has a price and it’s not something I’m willing to pay.
So what if I’m not trendy and cool by American/British standards. But I’ll be golldarned if I’m going to pay
a tenth of my monthy salary a pint of blood for something made of cotton that only covers my crotch and skinny legs.
There was a point to all this but I can’t remember what it is.
Oh yeah. My wife loves me even though I’m a slob. And that’s pretty cool.