I loathe this word. Over the years, it has grown to a negative connotation. Others might take it as a compliment, but not me.
I recall hearing this word in tenth grade. I was in that distorted transition phase between teenage style and a more mature style. I started with dress shirts, or more specifically, casual dress shirts. My wardrobe consisted of shirts and a few sweatshirts, which I’d recycle throughout the week. They weren’t my proudest moments, but it was where I started a sense of “style”.
In one of my classes, a few friends started calling me metro. At first, I had no idea what it meant. The word was foreign to me, and the only similar word I knew at that time was homosexual. I pondered if I was being called gay, but in a sophisticated manner. Eventually, they explained to me that a metrosexual was a man that invested time in the way they looked. Hey, that sounds like praise! Two years ago, I took it as a compliment. A year ago, I started to change my belief on this word.
Here’s a definition that sums up the word in today’s standards:
A metrosexual is a man who spends a certain amount of time and money on his lifestyle, specifically his appearance
As I started to phase into my presumed mature sense of style, I realized that I don’t fit this term. Do I spend a lot of time on my appearance? No, unless the battle against acne is considered to be an enjoyable experience. Do I spend a lot of money? No. And finally, the hidden question: am I in the closet? Am I? I never knew I was gay. If anyone was to know my true sexual orientation, I figured that I would be the first to know.
I believe that many girls mentally label me as a “gay dude”. It’s either because 1) I wear nicer clothing than the rest, or 2) my lack of interaction with the females. On option 2, it’s not as if I avoid interaction. I just find most females dull, boring, whiny, and annoying. I’m up for conversation, but not with teenage girls. And I’m not smooth with the ladies. Those two things pretty much wraps up my high school career.
I don’t think I’m a metrosexual. I’m not too superficial, although I am judgmental. I wash my face, keep it moisturized, and change my diet to combat acne. I mostly talk to males, but it doesn’t mean I want them. I exercise because I want a healthy cardiovascular system and want to fit in clothes. Clothes that I wear to more or less impress myself. No, I don’t dress up for others. That would be a common misconception. I might have those thoughts of trying to impress someone, but at the end of the day, I do it for my own pleasure.
Now here’s someone I want to be:
A well-mannered and considerate man with high standards of proper behavior
That is the definition of a gentlemen. A dying breed replaced by these metrosexuals with proper attire, but a lack of etiquette. I’ll discuss this in a later post.