For People Who Think Really Hard About What to Wear…


broken show

Though the way I wear my clothes can inform an opinion of me, at the end of that opinion, is a configuration of letters that spell onion. And we all know what that means.

In a time when the culture of dating is just as confusing as Steve Harvey’s marital status, hastily passing up an opportunity to connect with someone solely based on the amount of elasticity in their pants or bottles of shoe polish consumed, does not necessarily equate to having good taste.

When I see a man casually wearing spandex shorts, chances are:

a) He’s just finished riding a bike and is therefore interested in his health. This is good, because I could certainly use a little kick to curb my relationship with KFC’s honey BBQ wings. #justsaying

b) He’s fresh out of a yoga class. Another signifier of a man who’s conscientious about his physical well-being. I’m all for perfect posture and flexibility.

c) This guy is really proud of his package and doesn’t mind who picks it up.

Whatever the case may be, Lycra has a way of complicating situations (read a man’s sexual orientation), and I want to make sure I’m flirting with someone who enjoys exploring all things uterine.

The question then becomes, am I going to dismiss potential interest in a man because of his preference for one blend of fibers over another? It depends. Aesthetics influence first impressions. More times than not, before he curls his bottom lip to speak, I’ve already engaged in the conversation between his shoulder blades and sweater. The exchange between cotton and skin can set a suitor up for failure or success. Basic concept.

…right?

According to my mother’s make-shift handbook of style, not only are men who wear biker shorts (minus the bike) at risk of getting docked dating points, so is a man with scuffed shoes. At most, the man with streaked shoes gets a smile and minor attempt at conversation, but he’s definitely not getting the digits. Not until he develops a better relationship with shoe polish. Inherently, I thought my mom’s logic was flawed. What does a streak of mud mean anyway? Don’t shoes have the right to be dirty? After-all, they were designed to protect our feet, which means being exposed to all kinds of litter, debris and poop. Though my questions were many, my mom managed to co-opt my curiosity and nudge me in the direction of her own. This was easy,especially when I’d catch her, rag in hand, buffing her own walkers. She didn’t mind being what she wanted to attract, and for that I give her a hand clap.

Clap.

I figured, by default, mom knows best. And as such, I should take notes and learn how to do her best. This meant keeping my shoes clean and streak-free. I ended up not being such a good practitioner of this habitual shoe-cleaning ritual. Every once in a while, I neglect the rag and Ajax, allow my shoes to just be as they are and chalk it up to my disinterest in obsessing over my soles.

Being that I’ve been guilty of committing clean shoe-icide (shout out to Fabolous), I find it a little unfair to pass judgment on men with stained laces.

As far as the Lycra scenario goes, I suggest you make sure a bike or yoga mat are nearby.

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