Narcissist, metrosexual, call us what you like, we're out and proud

Sydney Morning Herald ^ | August 29, 2003 | Matt Martyn-Jones

[presidio9]

The English Premier League soccer kicked off its 2003-04 season last week. I've been sneakily staying up late watching live games on pay TV and waiting for the replays on free-to-air. Not for the soccer, mind you. For the hairstyles.

As far as male hair fashions go these games are a veritable goldmine of cutting-edge dos. From neat short back and sides, which are apparently tres chic this year, to bleached tips, mohawks and yes, even, the mullet, English soccer has it all.

Now, even though the high prince of metrosexuals, David Beckham, has departed England for the Spanish club Real Madrid, I can assuage any fears that this phenomenon would peter out by reporting that his countrymen are not letting him down. Yep, it's still a sideline-to-sideline waxed, coiffed primped and preened metrosexual mecca. And I reckon it's great.

If a metrosexual is what The New York Times described as a "straight urban man willing to embrace his feminine side", and this means paying attention to how one presents themselves, then I'm a metrosexual and I'm not afraid to admit it.

We have had a lot of bad press lately, and it's time some of us stood up to be counted.

I like my shirt and tie to match. I keep up with fashion trends and I would like to think I'm quite well groomed. Is there anything wrong with this?

In June, during the long hiatus from the Premier League's global fashion deities, the marketing and advertising conglomerate Euro RSCG sparked a feeding frenzy in magazines and on opinion pages, not to mention weblogs, about metrosexuals.

Countless articles since have discussed grooming products like hair wax, moisturisers, toners, jewellery and even make-up, including nail polish.

On this page Peter FitzSimons demanded of us, "Choose, you bastards! Blancmange or BLOKE?", which one feels probably means he had his head neatly tucked under the bottom of a ruck instead of listening to his arts lecturer at Sydney University during that class on post-modernism.

Otherwise he would welcome diverse images of the Australian man, rather than pigeon-holing us into convenient boxes with labels on them. Fitzy, we metrosexuals are now denizens, so get used to us.

Nonetheless he raised a very salient point. Namely, he bemoaned the "marketing schtick" that is "all pervasive". Let me be so bold as to get in touch with my feminine side here and "bond" with Mr FitzSimons on this point by asking: is this all just a clever con by the marketers and advertisers?

The short answer is - probably. There have always been men who care about their appearance and who were willing to use products to enhance their looks.

Why else would we be subject to those ridiculous ads on hair replacement, or the lopsided, patchily matched toupee that looks like a well-directed sneeze could hilariously but devastatingly dislodge it?

In Elizabethan times aristocratic men wore wigs and make-up along with the women. Were these men Elizabetho-sexuals?

In the 1980s Warwick Capper redefined what it meant for an Aussie bloke to "care about his appearance" with the world's tightest shorts and bleached blond locks. Were the men who copied him Capper-sexuals? I happen to think Bob Carr and Peter Costello are among the better dressed politicians. Does that make me a Bobo-sexual, or worse a Costello-sexual?

It is true - it is "marketing schtick". Why else would they have AFL players in a new ad campaign selling shampoo? But we like it!

What's wrong with putting moisturiser on after a day in the surf, or packing the face cleanser when you 4WD to the top of Mt Stirling on a camping trip to see where they filmed The Man From Snowy River? Does this make me a metrosexual miscreant?

No. It makes me a modern late-20s Aussie male and I've got lots of friends just like me. They're straight, they dress well and they care about their appearance.

Recently I heard how a young urban professional male was shocked because a male colleague had applied face cream and hand moisturiser in the office. It happened in the news bureau of a major national newspaper in Canberra.

I wasn't surprised. I've lived through a Canberra winter. It's brutal on your skin. You'd be silly not to look after it.

None of this is really much of a surprise. It makes sense to me. It's not weird and it's certainly not somehow un-Australian.

Even the PM had a makeover before getting to The Lodge to deal with those eyebrows, which was, like most of this stuff, common sense. Which is an attribute most Aussie men would claim to have in abundance.

[Argh]

I prefer the expression "pretentious fop".

[OpusatFR]

I think they were called ~Dandies~ in the last centuries.

They were also great fodder for satire and comedy. Didn't Thackery write some stories about the Dandified culture?

Love it when the new generations happen upon something so old, it is new again.

It's all rather boringly familiar....!

[egarvue]

We called 'em "Preppies" in the 80's...they got beat up then, too.

[Argh]

Good!:^)

[Spruce]

A p*ssy by any other name is still a p*ssy!

[headsonpikes]

"dandies'

'macaronis' is another name, recalled from Yankee Doodle.

;^)

[the gillman@blacklagoon.com]

I'll stick with calling them faggots.

[solon_where_r_u]

Or "maricones" as we Cubans say in Miami....

[martin_fierro]

I had what would now be called a "metrosexual" roommate in the early 80s.

He collected teddy bears, but only those of a particular manufacturer (and the tag HAD to be left on).

He knew the price of everything, but the value of nothing.

I suspect that a big part of his problem was due to having been abandoned by his father for a time.

The apartment itself was great, but I was ready to kill him by the end of the lease.

[weegee]

Australian, eh? His name's not Bruce.

I have one question for him: "Are you a poofter?"

[pogo101]

I know this writer is Aussie, but still it reminds me of the Monty Python skits involving "Upper Class Twits" and the "Ministry of Silly Walks."

[Dan from Michigan]

WEAK!

[O.C. - Old Cracker]

Three poofy gits to add to your list.

[freedomlover]

I think we should call him Bruce to to keep things clear.

[weegee]

Bruce: G'day, Bruce!

Bruce: Oh, Hello Bruce!

Bruce: How are you Bruce?

Bruce: A bit crooked, Bruce.

Bruce: Where's Bruce?

Bruce: He's not 'ere, Bruce.

Bruce: Blimey, it's hot in here, Bruce.

Bruce: Hot enough to boil a monkey's bum!

Bruce: That's a strange expression, Bruce.

Bruce: Well Bruce, I heard the Prime Minister use it. "It's hot enough to
boil a monkey's bum in here, your Majesty," he said and she smiled quietly
to herself.

Bruce: She's a good Sheila Bruce, and not at all stuck up.

Bruce: Here! Here's the boss-fellow now!

Bruce: 'Ow are you, Bruce?

Bruce: G'day Bruce!

Bruce: Bruce.

Bruce: Hello Bruce.

Bruce: Bruce.

Bruce: How are you, Bruce?

Bruce: G'day Bruce.

Bruce: Gentleman, I'd like to introduce man from Pommeyland who is joinin'
us this year in the philosophy department at the University of
Wooloomooloo.

Everybruce: G'day!

Michael Baldwin: Hello. My name is Michael Baldwin.

Bruce: Michael Baldwin ?

Bruce. Michael Baldwin ?

Bruce: Is your name not Bruce?

Michael: No, it's Michael.

Bruce: That's going to cause a little confusion.

Bruce: Mind if we call you "Bruce" to keep it clear?

Bruce: Gentlemen, I think we better start the faculty meeting.
Before we start, though, I'd like to ask the padre for a prayer.

Bruce: Oh Lord, we beseech Thee, Amen!!

Everybruce: Amen!

Bruce: Crack tube! (Bottles opening)

Bruce: Now I call upon Bruce to officially welcome Mr. Baldwin to the
philosophy faculty.

Bruce: I'd like to welcome the pommey bastard to God's own Earth, and remind
him that we don't like stuck-up sticky-bates here.

Everybruce: Hear, hear! Well spoken, Bruce!

Bruce: Bruce here teaches classical philosophy, Bruce there teaches
Haegelian philosophy, and Bruce here teaches logical positivism. And is also
in charge of the sheep dip.

Bruce: What's New-Bruce going to teach?

Bruce: New-Bruce will be teaching political science, Machiavelli, Benton,
Lockholm, Sackly, Millbo, Hasset, and Bernerd.

Bruce: Those are all cricketers!

Bruce: Aww, spit!

Bruce: Hails of derisive laughter, Bruce!

Everybruce: Australia, Australia, Australia, Australia, we love you amen!
Bruce: Another two! (Bottles opening)

Bruce: Any questions?

Bruce: New-Bruce, are you a Poofter?

Bruce: Are you a Poofter?

New-Bruce: No!

Bruce: No. Right, I just want to remind you of the faculty rules:
Rule One! (Everybruce) No Poofters!
Rule Two, no member of the faculty is to maltreat the Abbos in any
way at all -- if there's anybody watching.
Rule Three? (Everybruce) No Poofters!!
Rule Four, now this term, I don't want to catch anybody not drinking.
Rule Five, (Everybruce) No Poofters!
Rule Six, there is NO ... Rule Six.
Rule Seven, (Everybruce) No Poofters!!
Right, that concludes the readin' of the rules, Bruce.

Bruce: This here's the wattle, the emblem of our land. You can stick it in a
bottle, you can hold it in your hand.

Everybruce: Amen!

[azhenfud]

You've misspelled "pansy" ;-)

[Bernard Marx]

Or as W.S. Gilbert wrote in the lyric to "Patience,"

"A most intense young man,

A soulful-eyed young man,

An ultrapoetical

Superesthetical

Out of the way young man!"

I think he had Oscar Wilde in mind when he penned it.

[presidio9]

A Preppy is something different from a "metrosexual." Preppies still exist today, and I know plenty who never bought hair conditioner in their lives.

[weegee]

An older story from Australia:

Making a clean breast of fashion [Boobs for men as a fashion accessory]

Ladies beware. Some men may just be dating you for your wardrobe.