This Christmas party season has been a lot of fun so far. I love nothing more than getting glammed up for a night out, but increasingly I am finding myself fighting for my time in the bathroom. Quite disturbingly, I’ve realised that my boyfriend takes way longer to get ready than I do! Gah!
If we’re ever getting ready to go out together, I have to make sure to get in first or risk not being able to perform my full going-out beauty regime. This used to be one of the classic tell-tale signs that your man might in fact be more feminine than you, if you know what I’m getting at, but not these days. Generally, it seems men just like to be more careful about their appearance than they used to be.
I think it all started with the footballers shaving their chests. In the old days (the old days being, say, the 80s), all real men used to go around with a full on chest beard. This was a sign of masculinity. Go back even further, to the 70s, and no real porn star would have been complete without resplendent porno moustache. Nowadays, the pretty boys all shave themselves to within an inch of their lives, and I just don’t understand it. Sure, nobody likes to make love to a yak, but a little bit of chest hair can be very sexy, and it’s scientifically proven that it carries the male pheromones that drive us women crazy. I’m not saying I enjoy such things as unclipped toenails and nostril hair, but sometimes I wish my man would have just a little more of the untamed, raw Tarzan about him.
Shane Warne’s the classic example of a man who has been totally de-sexed by his beauty regime, and this was instigated by his girlfriend of all people! I don’t
understand it.
Let’s face it, when it comes down to it, I’d really rather have a man that would, say, save me from a lion and rub his sexy man-sweat all over me than one who would smell immaculately of Armani, and run away and leave me to be eaten…
