Tuesday, 10 January 2012

Metrosexual or the Only Gay in the Village?

In the past, I’ve not been adverse to a bit of preening. In my teenage years I probably spent longer getting ready to go out than my wife does now.

These days I just don’t have the time and generally it’s a litte touch of gel, a quick brush of the hair and a squirt of Dolce & Gabbana. Ok, Ok occasionally a touch of moisturiser and I did once have a tube of that ‘lightening’ cream that goes under your eyes but don’t tell anyone.

I like a good soak in the bath too, and last night was ‘delighted’ to find the residue from my daughters sparkly, glittery bath bomb left me coated in little flecks of gold glitter.

This morning I had to use my wife’s deodorant as I had run out, and for some inadvertent reason randomly wore a pink tie with my crisp white shirt. Nothing wrong with that, I’m quite comfortable wearing pink. Indeed, I have a pink polo shirt, t-shirt and work shirt in the wardrobe.

It was only later I realised that not only do I now smell of a non-masculine fragrance, I’m wearing pink and also still have flecks of sparkle in my hair and on my face that hadn’t came off in the shower this morning. All that was missing was some fake tan and I think I would have passed for a slim Dale Winton.

Note to self. Even with limited time, consider your appearance carefully.

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