Groomed To Perfection
Meet Edward. He moisturises daily, trims his pubic hair, and has even been known to bring wine costing more than £3.99 to a crew date. Instead of sticky pictures of big-breasted beauties, Ed stashes copies of Men’s Health under his bed. Nestled inside his fashionably-vintage leather wallet is a well-used Selfridges store card and lifelong membership to the gym. Ed is not gay, but ‘metrosexual’.
One of the most irritating terms of the twentieth century, ‘metrosexual’ was spawned in 1994 by Mark Simpson of The Independent. Far from stagnating in the out-ofdate depths of the 1990s, like the Vengaboys and the Tellytubbies, metrosexualism is becoming increasingly embedded in the 21st-century consciousness.
If you are a guy, willing to pay more than ten pounds for a haircut, and need more than a toothbrush and deodorant to get ready in the morning, then you could well be among this ultra-modern and trendy new brand of men. Indeed, ‘brand’ is an accurate term: the metrosexual truly is the advertiser’s walking wet dream. The stoic, unfashionable, rugged male didn’t shop enough, so he has been replaced by the clearskinned, smooth-faced, tousledhaired man of the Nivea adverts.
This commercial interest perfectly accounts for why ‘metrosexualism’ has had such staying power: advertising loves over-simplified, generalised terms in which to package people forcibly. Euro RSCG, the US advertising giant, has only recently realised the potential of the new ‘Man- Brand’, and they have done their research: apparently 30–35 per cent of young men in America have metrosexual tendencies.
The telltale signs are buying skincare cream and fragrances, or having body hair removed, such as the ‘back, sack and crack’. If a man is so dedicated to his appearance that he’s prepared to wax his testicles then he’s definitely in metrosexual territory.
However, the defining feature is the clothes: according to Marian Salzman, head of Euro RSCG, the metrosexual man is “any straight man who has a salmon pink shirt in his wardrobe” – which means about 75 per cent of Oxford boys, then. The grooming market for males in North America was worth around $8 billion last year, and is growing fast. Although any generalisation is problematic, it does seem that there is a recent trend towards men taking more care of their appearance.
Perhaps this signifies a post-feminist blurring of gender boundaries, or the increased consumerism and aestheticism of society. However, it may be far simpler than that. Rob Yates, a Teddy Hall rugby player who (correctly) asserts he is “definitely not a metrosexual”, has another suggestion: “Guys are just desperate. They’re trying to give themselves the best possible chance to get with girls.”
This sentiment is backed up by many lads mags, which describe the Modern Man as being “just gay enough to get the babes”. If girls have to spend hours straightening their hair pre-Park End, then the guys need to make a bit of effort to get laid too. The million-pound question, however, is ‘does it work?’ The Oxford girls asked gave mixed responses. Lucy Underwood, a second year Biochemist, admitted: “I personally wouldn’t find it attractive.
It’s not masculine – it’s too clean cut.” In contrast, Rachael Green, geologist and keen rower, said: “I think it’s nice that guys feel they can look after their appearance. Metrosexuals are like gay friends that you can talk to about clothes, and also pull! It’s having the best of both worlds.” These diverse responses reveal the problem with the term ‘metrosexual’.
The implication is that for a male to be concerned with his appearance, his sexuality must be put into question: he is viewed as ‘unmasculine’ or ‘homosexual’. If being ‘masculine’ equates with bad dress-sense fluffy, unstyled hair and general uncleanliness then the metrosexual is indeed unmasculine. But surely by the year 2005 we’ve got past these outdated gender distinctions? Women have been struggling for centuries to rid themselves of female gender stereotypes.
We no longer expect girls to be passive and demure, sexually submissive and only interested in ‘feminine’ pursuits, such as cooking and shoe shopping. If a woman strikes up an interest in a ‘masculine’ activity – such as playing for her college football team, or doing an engineering degree – nobody would raise an eyebrow.
Why is there still a taboo about a guy using face masks, or appreciating the finer points about Bridget Jones’ Diary? Are boys all over the university dancing drunkenly to Britney Spears or cooking up a feast in the kitchen? The need to pigeonhole men who delve a little too far into the realm of the ‘feminine’ than society is comfortable with, to imply that they can’t really be ‘heterosexual’, is surely old-fashioned and narrowminded.
One Mansfield secondyear responded similarly when asked if he considered himself a metrosexual: “Metrosexual is an insulting term. Why is this deemed to be a special phenomenon? Real men are guys who take care of themselves and don’t put on a pathetic macho act, so why is there any need for an inappropriate label?” ‘Metrosexualism’, like all generalisations, is inevitably useless.
Men cannot simply be divided into ‘metrosexuals’ or ‘heterosexuals’ – this is just patronising advertising jargon. Gender boundaries are being broken down just as much by the well-groomed man as the impassioned feminist, allowing for a more open-minded and individualist society. Plus, if more men are acting like the effeminate, groomed Jude Law, and less like the ‘masculine’Wayne Rooney, then that can only be a good thing.
