A gal at work talks about this show all the time. I'm guessing that their audience is made up entirely of women.
...I'd be a good candidate for their "style upgrade" and I should think about going on their show.
Gals, do you really want a pretty boy in chinos and cashmere, or a guy who knows how to handle a Sawzall?
So as politely and diplomatically as I could manage, I replied "what, and be turned into a castrated metrosexual wuss?!?"
Correct answer.
I once had a "pretty boy" husband.
His hands were softer than mine.
His idea of "house repairs" was a festival of half-@ssed jury-rigging.
Hubby #2 snags my stockings just by lovingly patting my leg.
He's a welder/metal fabricator and trike kit builder.
There's nothing he can't fix, including a broken heart.
Guess which one I'd cheerfully walk naked through the fires of Hell for.....;)