Are you metrosexual? (Sorry, not you Jonny, your neck's too thick) [How To Be a Metrosexual]

The Times ^ | November 27, 2003 | Andrew Billen

[Timesink]

November 27, 2003

Are you metrosexual? (Sorry, not you Jonny, your neck's too thick)

By Andrew Billen

Macho is out, moisturiser is in — and you don't even have to be gay. Adrift on a sea of testosterone and Wilkinson-worship after England's Rugby World Cup win, our correspondent found solace in a guide to the new, new man — a lean, slim trendsetter with a heightened aesthetic sense, who cares how he looks

I WAS A WIMP. But I’m metrosexual now. My reinvention — or, in marketing terms, my repositioning — happened only last weekend and I’m telling everyone about it.

Saturday began badly. Off the red-eye from New York, I took to my bed at 9am planning a three-hour kip. At around 11am I was awoken by a bestial choral scream from next door. I later calculated that this must have been the moment Jonny Wilkinson converted or tried or did whatever he did to win the rugby World Cup.

By 4pm the bars were heaving with testosterone. Middle-aged fund managers in canary yellow jumpers, bullet-headed estate agents in two-tone rugby shirts, Nike-heeled property developers were united in incoherence, their conversation reduced to three chanted syllables: “In-Ger-Land”. By 7pm there were minor street skirmishes. What, though, did anyone expect? The pubs had opened at 9am because, you know, who wants to watch a rugby match unlubricated?

Since I have no interest in sport, take no pleasure in getting drunk and believe patriotism to be dangerous idiocy, familiar feelings of alienation from my sex began to crowd in. At such moments of fraternity, men are from Mars and I feel I’m from Pluto.

But rescue lay in a small blue paperback I had bought in Manhattan called The Metrosexual Guide to Style. This “handbook for the modern man” — found, despite a certain jokiness of tone, in the profoundly serious self-help and personal grooming section of Barnes & Noble — was that most comforting thing: a self-improvement manual that told me stuff I already knew.

Its author, a New Yorker called Michael Flocker, defines Metrosexual in dictionary terms. “1: 21st-century male trendsetter. 2: straight, urban man with a heightened aesthetic sense. 3: man who spends time and money on appearance and shopping. 4: man willing to embrace his feminine side.” Of course, I’m not a really close fit for any of these definitions. I can hear Dylan Jones, a dandyish former colleague, now editor of GQ, laughing even as he reads this. But concede this, Dylan: I am nearer to being a metrosexual than Jonny Wilkinson will ever be. For a start, he’s the wrong shape. The Metrosexual Guide states unequivocally: “The ideal body image is natural, lean and trim. The pumped-up, steroid injecting muscleman is out.” This is why Jonny looks so terribly trussed-up when he wears a suit. On Sunday, his shirt’s expensive cutaway collar could not disguise that, behind the thick knot of his England tie, its top button was not only undone but, owing to overdeveloped neck muscle, undo-uppable.

The handbook, which I’m sure he’ll never read but really should, divides into sections: general etiquette; food and wine; culture; fashion; health and fitness; sex; and home decor. The advice is exact and strict. Never discuss or display money. Espresso is NOT pronounced “EX-presso”. Only its final section, on the metrosexual mindset, waffles slightly and even then it can be quite brusque. Ten Things to Avoid concludes: “Don’t be an asshole” .

At points, it goes too far. With it all the way when it urges nasal and ear hair plucking, I become nervous when it descends towards the pubic region and recommends a regime of trimming and moisturising (“When feeling especially frisky, a nice, fresh scent makes for a pleasant surprise”). Since a woman friend had only just told me that her most recent romance ended when her Italian lover emerged from a hotel bathroom wearing a face mask, I was relieved that its skin care tips stopped at scrub and moisturiser.

The handbook makes it clear that masculinity is in itself no bar to civilisation. All it wants is to bring men up to the minimal level of sophistication attained by women. The heightened aesthetic sense is not so very heightened. You need to know Leonardo was a Renaissance artist, that Van Gogh was an Expressionist and that modern art looks weird not because it’s rubbish but because it’s new. Nevertheless, Flocker does not minimise the challenge. Halfway through the art section, under the misleading heading “Sex, Sex, Sex!” he scolds: “If you got bored and skipped over the previous section, go back and read it! You should know this stuff, and the paragraphs could not possibly be any shorter, for God’s sake.”

As this week’s boorish celebrating has demonstrated, nobody should underestimate the average male’s inner neanderthal. A divorced friend recently told me he was resisting decorating his new, deckchair-strewn home because he expected his next girlfriend to do it. The handbook — which I intend to be his Christmas present — will suggest that there won’t be a next girlfriend if he doesn’t learn smartish the difference between Practical Contemporary and Rustic Bohemian.

I don’t want to be smug but, inevitably, smugness creeps in. My dinner date on Tuesday arrived full of lust for Jonny W. By the end of the evening, I had so scrupulously observed Flocker’s rules and admonishments — walking kerb-side of her, following her to the restaurant table, helping her on with her coat, not staring at other women — that she declared herself a convert to Metrosexuality.

Tomorrow — at least until the next time England win something — belongs to us.

The Metrosexual Guide to Style (Da Capo Press, £7.99). In bookshops or to order from Littlehampton Book Services (01903 828800)

TEN WARDROBE MUST-HAVES

Flattering underwear
Three black T-shirts, three new white T-shirts
Two different pairs of flattering jeans
One dark suit
One leather or suede short coat (not a bomber jacket)
Two rollneck or crewneck cable-knit sweaters
Two pairs of dark, straightleg, non-pleated trousers
Three well-cut, solid-colour, button-down shirts (one white)
Quality sunglasses
One expensive watch, one sportswatch

THE CONFIDENT METROSEXUAL ALWAYS . . .

Puts others at ease
Takes responsibility for his actions
Is aware of his sexuality
Enjoys looking his best
Flirts subtly
Accepts flattery
Is open to spontaneity
Never loses control
Tells the truth
Is able to laugh at himself

15 BOOKS YOU SHOULD READ

The Great Gatsby — F Scott Fitzgerald
The Sun Also Rises — Ernest Hemingway
Myra Breckenridge — Gore Vidal
The Turn of the Screw — Henry James
Things Fall Apart — Chinua Achebe
Underworld — Don DeLillo
Maus and Maus II — Art Spiegelman
Perfume — Susskind
On The Road — Jack Kerouac
The Outsider — Albert Camus
Love in the Time of Cholera — Gabriel Garcia Marquez
The Berlin Stories — Christopher Isherwood
The Unbearable Lightness of Being — Milan Kundera
Barrel Fever — David Sedaris
Fight Club — Chuck Palahniuk

15 ALBUMS YOU SHOULD OWN

Buena Vista Social Club — Various
Chet Baker in Paris — Chet Baker
What’s Goin’ On — Marvin Gaye
Du Jazz Dans Le Ravin — Serge Gainsbourg
Best of Sade (Remastered) — Sade
The Mission: Soundtrack — Ennio Morricone
Painted from Memory — Elvis Costello and Burt Bacharach
Blue Lines — Massive Attack
Four Sider — Sergio Mendes and Brasil '66
The Moderns: Soundtrack — Mark Isham
Speaking in Tongues — Talking Heads
Best of Bowie — David Bowie
Vertigo — Groove Armada
Parachutes — Coldplay
Berlin — Lou Reed

15 FILMS YOU SHOULD SEE

La Dolce Vita — Federico Fellini
Fargo — The Coen brothers
The Elephant Man — David Lynch
Cinema Paradiso — Giuseppe Tornatore
The Last Emperor — Bernardo Bertolucci
A Clockwork Orange — Stanley Kubrick
Tie Me Up, Tie Me Down — Pedro Almodovar
Wings of Desire — Wim Wenders
Amelie — Jean-Pierre Jeunet
Brazil — Terry Gilliam
The Remains of the Day — James Ivory
American Beauty — Sam Mendes
Cabaret — Bob Fosse
Koyaanisqatsi — Godfrey Reggio
Sunset Boulevard — Billy Wilder

METROSEXUAL: IS HE OR ISN’T HE?

YES
Tony Blair
Michael Portillo
Ewan MacGregor
David Beckham
Pierce Brosnan
David Bowie
Oliver Letwin
George Clooney
Charles Saatchi
Justin Timberlake
Melvyn Bragg
Vittorio Radice
Guy Black
Thierry Henry
Andrew Billen

NO
Gordon Brown
Iain Duncan Smith
Russell Crowe
Jonny Wilkinson
Sean Connery
Keith Richards
David Davis
Tom Cruise
Damien Hirst
Eminem
Jonathan Ross
Philip Green
Alastair Campbell
Paul Gascoigne
Microwave Man

MAYBE
Michael Howard
Robin Cook
Colin Farrell
Michael Owen
Roger Moore
Mick Jagger
Tim Yeo
Ben Affleck
Martin Creed
Damon Albarn
Michael Parkinson
Richard Branson
Godric Smith
Ryan Giggs
Richard Morrison

[NYC GOP Chick]

Yes, I *LOVE* Pilates! I take a class 2x a week and do some at home -- I have some of the Winsor DVDs and tapes, and one from Crunch and another. But I have to keep doing the cardio to burn the fat. Under there, I can feel a tighter abdominus rectus though. :)

[NYC GOP Chick]

BTW - I'm probable for CPAC. 70/30 chance.

Woo hoo hoo! Looks like a WFTD reunion! :)

[Senator Pardek]

Er - they're a great live band.

[NYC GOP Chick]

LOL! You're from Lawnguyland?! That's where I am stuck right now -- but heading back home in the morning. :)

I *know* what the social scene is like here. Why do you think I bolted out of here and back home to the city of my birth as soon as I possibly could?!

FReepmail me if you want some ideas for socializing and stuff in the city! :)

[NYC GOP Chick]

That's nice.

[RikaStrom]

Yeah, but you're taller than ME! I know this for a fact!!! There is pictoral evidence of it. ;-)

The cousins in my family all grew tall too, I just didn't get that gene. Dagnabbit.

70/30? Good deal, we'll drag you to dinner too!

[cyborg]

At least most LI boys I know aren't into metrosexuality... oh well I can't speak to what goes on in the sharehouses out in the Hamptons.

[cardinal4]

I think "metrosexuals" should just come on outta the closet and be done with it.

Yep. Metrosexual is just the lastest term for being gay.

[NYC GOP Chick]

Nah. Too many guidos...

[Dan from Michigan]

Woo hoo hoo! Looks like a WFTD reunion! :)

Now where's the Guinness? :)

[snowstorm12]

American Psycho


"I live in the American Gardens Building on West Eighty-First Street, on the eleventh floor. My name is Patrick Bateman, I’m twenty-seven years old. I believe in taking care of myself, in a balanced diet and a rigorous exercise routine. In the morning if my face is a little puffy, I’ll put on an ice-pack while doing my stomach crunches. I can do a thousand now. After I remove the ice pack, I use a deep pore cleanser lotion. In the shower I use a water-activated gel cleanser. Then a honey-almond body scrub. And on the face, an exfoliating gel scrub. Then I apply an herb mint facial masque, which I leave on for ten minutes while I prepare the rest of my routine. I always use an aftershave lotion with little or no alcohol, because alcohol dries your face out and makes you look older. Then moisturizer. Then an anti-aging eye balm, followed by a final moisturizing protecting lotion. There is an idea of a Patrick Bateman, somekind of abstraction, but there is no real me. Only an entity-- something illusory. And though I can hide my cold gaze and you can shake my hand and feel flesh gripping yours, and maybe you can eve sense our lifestyles are probably comparable. I simply am not there."

[NYC GOP Chick]

You're bringing it, silly! :)

[Dan from Michigan]

Stickboy.

[cyborg]

Ya think? LOL... is the pope catholic? Does half of the attendees of Nassau Community College have the map of Italy on their shoulder?

[NYC GOP Chick]

I've seen the movie, and as effete as the character is, I found myself (unwillingly) physically attracted to him. I tried to convince myself that it was the actor and not the character who was doing that to me. ;)

[RikaStrom]

That was the oddest dang movie!

[Senator Pardek]

I found myself (unwillingly) physically attracted to him.

Metrosexual.

[NYC GOP Chick]

LOL! Actually, ethnic background is largely irrelevant when it comes to guidodom -- I've known Jewish guidos.

It's the unmoveable Tony Manero hair and fetish for shopping at Chess King (I think that's the one, it is or was in Roosevelt Field) that define the Tao of Guido, along with muscle t-shirts and Trans Ams and Firebirds, among other indicators.

[NYC GOP Chick]

You are *such* a beeotch. A metrosexual one, at that.

[snowstorm12]

Yeah it was a very odd and weird movie.