Two of my cousins threw a Mexican potluck last week. I gleefully attended knowing that the 25% of my blood that is from Mexico would help make this potluck all that much more Mexican. I really felt like I gave the party a sense of authenticity that tortilla chips and enchiladas alone just can’t provide. Anyway, while that hypothesis certainly has a sense of validity to it, it is not the subject of this story. (Four sentences in and I’m already wildly off track.)

Where this story takes us is on a different tangent all together. I was acquainted with most of the people at this party, a few I had even gone to high school with. That said, beyond my cousins, none of the other party attendees were people I would call up on the weekend to spend time with. Not because I didn’t like them, as they were all certainly wonderful people, simply because I didn’t know them all that well. Despite the fact that I don’t know any of these people well, I got no less than three compliments on my shoes. And not by girls either, all by the less-fair sex. Granted, my shoes were undeniably quite awesome, as they were Gryffindor colors, and I was reppin’ Potter, but this still seemed a strange occurrence to me. When did it become socially acceptable for men to compliment other men’s shoes? I feel like this never would have passed muster in 2006, it’s arguable even for how much of 2007 this was acceptable.

As this observation started to frolic through my brain I looked up and noticed that the most recent complimenteer* of my shoes was not drinking a beer, or a Coke, or even water but rather a DIET Coke. A quick glance around the room and subsequent calculation gave me the admittedly rough percentage of 53% of the male attendees of this party were drinking diet soda. This observation possibly astonished me more than the manly shoe compliments I was getting. I’ve been a huge proponent of diet soda for years now, but I always got a few questionable looks or snickers when I went diet in public. I thanked my NBA sized hands countless times for their ability to cover the major surface area of my incriminating can. Let’s be honest though, who needs those extra calories? I know I don’t, aspartamine side effects be damned.

Don’t think for a minute that these two events were random occurrences. No no, dear reader, these seemingly random events point to a much larger sea change. One that I like to call the Feminification** of Men. This may not seem like a new idea, and it’s probably not. The whole “metrosexual” thing has been around for awhile now, but what I found interesting was that none (well, maybe one) of the guys at this party could be described as a “metrosexual”. They were all pretty manly men. I’m fairly confident 75% of these guys lift weights. There were no less than three beards present. There was even a Division 1 basketball player. This kind behavior was coming from people you wouldn’t ever expect it from, and nobody gave it a second thought.***

I know it’s a strong statement, but I think this Feminification of Men is a welcome thing. For one I quite like my shoes. I have a lot of pairs, mostly due to the bug I got while working for Nike, and I don’t see why I shouldn’t get complemented on them. And like I said before, all those calories in real cola are no different anything in a Sky Mall magazine, nobody needs them.

I know what you’re thinking: “John, even if you have these thoughts you should never admit them. Never admit your womanly qualities,” or maybe even “You are one step away from wearing makeup, fruit.” First of all, I’m comfortable enough in my sexuality to admit these things. (I’m probably too comfortable in my sexuality, I’m fairly certain I could comfortably wear a dress. And I have a penchant for planting one squarely on the lips of Har Rai while I’m drunk. Um, this isn’t coming off very well.) Second, I just can’t see the harm in men being a little more womanly. Maybe we’ll start taking a little better care of ourselves, maybe we’ll start paying attention to what colours match, maybe we’ll even stop seeing small children as things that would be fun to punt.

That day is certainly coming, as this essay states, I can tell it’s quite close. Until then though, all babies should beware of getting drop kicked.

-John
john@addictedtowords.com

*I made this word up.
**I made this word up too.
***This is untrue, as this essay proves that I gave it a second thought.

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