After last summer, I was going to write a piece called Pedicure Ponderings. It would have looked at metrosexuals (nothing new there, ever heard the term "pretty boy"?), wearing a pink shirt and thong sandals (a girl friend's influence, of course), getting my first pedicure (the girl was utterly clueless) and wondering, as I sat in the spa reading a magazine article about Savage Garden, if there was a "gay love child connection" between them and Air Supply.
A generation apart, both are formulaic pop ballad duos from Australia with a shorter, dark haired singer and a tall, blonde singer/guitarist.
Missing the fall issue, and with winter being the wrong time for a summer themed piece, I never finished it. Subsequent research however, showed no family connections and that only one of the four is actually gay.
And then the following spring, Mattias wrote The Metrosexual Confusion and Dragos, while we talked about exfoliating, asked me to give his short story, Blazing Zion, a pink background.
There's wrong with wanting to look good. Nothing at all.
But the article I find myself writing this autumn almost scares me because over this past summer I've found myself getting checked out more often by men than women. And I'm having a hard time with that. I mean that figuratively of course.
Both men and women find me attractive. I'm fine with that. After all, it goes to your head, being so good looking you appeal to both sexes.
And over the years I've had both men and women ask if I was gay. My friends and I have always laughed at that, fitting a profile: "Hmm, attractive, charming, sensitive, well dressed and well groomed... Oooh! There goes my gaydar!"
You'd be surprised how many people fit the standard serial killer profile too.
I've got nothing against gay men. My first roommate was gay (although I didn't know until after I moved in), I've had gay co-workers and friends, a
fantastic hair fairy (straight men can't cut hair) and back in my early 20's, I even hung out in a few gay bars. Why not? They were friendly and it was the perfect place to pick up women.
Men bought me drinks in vain while women were impressed with my sensitivity and being secure enough in my sexuality to be in the bar in the first place. When you factor in that a woman's guard is naturally down in a gay bar, and that I had little, if any, competition, my genius is obvious.
But why years later, and considering I'm straight and don't frequent bars of any type (and I only went to gay bars only in sporadic spurts years ago), why am I being checked out by more men than women?
Well, for one thing, women are generally more discreet in their observances and I still get noticed, that's not an issue. It's the ratio.
Changing times are another obvious factor. With same sex relationships accepted in more places, world wide, like most major credit cards, most
people have the freedom to look where they want, when they want.
My friend Robert theorised that it's an alpha male factor, part attraction, part competition. And that would make sense since I usually notice it when I'm cycling in a tight t-shirt and really short spandex cycling shorts, or when I'm sunbathing in a park and practically naked save for a speedo.
It's also possible that the guys in the park are just stupid and from a distance think I'm a large, topless, sunbathing Amazon warrior princess.
Either way, it's flattering. And again, I've nothing against gay men. I've even tried to educate homophobes and rednecks that the more gay guys the better, because it means more women for the straight guys.
Lesbians are the real problem. When Portia de Rossi, a woman I've wanked over many times, married Ellen DeGeneres, I cried for days.