Ack, does that mean the "standard" hetero is only capable of buying frozen chips and nuclear food to live on? Whatever happened to the hunter-gatherer mentality, being able to provide for yourself when required? Has "mankind" in general really become dependant and lazy? (What the hell am I typing?) >_<Randorama wrote:But well, since the standard hetero can't really cook and needs a mothe---ehr, a woman to care for him, cooking seems to be quite metro.
I didn't realise that Armani et al is considered metro. Makes me glad that I don't justify spending £150 on a shirt with someone elses name on it. For £150 I can buy three just-as-good shirts (or other items of clothing) from regular high street labels like Bench, Boxfresh and French Connection and still have leftover money to go get a quick lunch and a glass of red wine.Randorama wrote:Nor do i wear Armani, honestly (which is funny - basically he's the "common guy" stylist, in the sense that most of his products are just refined things like, say, jackets, jeans, t-shirts).
Ack, I just sounded really cosmopolitian there -_-;;;;
You really cannot iron? For shame! The Man Who Is A Wizard With A Joypad is unable to operate a steam iron? ^_^Randorama wrote:Still, i can't learn to iron well, dammit
A quick Google search turned up this. Scary, innit ^_-
And therein lies the problem with this "metrosexual" definition. While other labels can be quite defining, 50+ posts later and we still haven't really made clear what "metrosexuality" actually covers. Cooking? Cleaning? Grooming? How much of this do you actually have to do to be considered metro?BulletMagnet wrote:That's an odd paradox of sorts...if a woman is able to live on her own without a man to support her or whatever, her fellow females are all "You go girl! You don't NEED no stinkin' man!" If a guy's on his own, though, his guy friends whisper amongst themselves, "he must be, er, effeminate." Heh heh, gender roles are a wonderful thing.
It shouldn't even be called "metrosexuality" anyway, since there's no... you know... actual sex going on. At least, not until Mr. Well Groomed meets Ms. Well Groomed, takes her to dinner at a swanky restaurant, back to his studio apartment, casts aside his £450 crisp Armani suit and gets down to some primal humping.
Like that ever happens outside of television shows.