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 Appeared in NYT.
America has a long tradition of sensitive guys. Alan Alda, John
Lennon, even Al Gore all heard the arguments of the feminist
movement and empathized. Likewise, there's a history of dashing men
like Cary Grant and Humphrey Bogart who managed to affect a personal
style with plenty of hair goop but without compromising their
virility. Even Harrison Ford, whose favorite accessory was once a
hammer, now poses proudly wearing an earring.
But what separates the modern-day metrosexual from his touchy-feely
forebears is a care-free attitude toward the inevitable suspicion
that a man who dresses well, has good manners, understands thread
counts or has opinions on women's fashion is gay.
"If someone's going to judge me on what kind of moisturizer I have
on my shelf, whatever," said Marc d'Avignon, 28, a graduate student
living in the East Village, who describes himself as "horrendously
addicted to Diesel jeans" and living amid a chemistry lab's worth of
Kiehl's lotions.
"It doesn't bother me at all. Call it homosexual, feminine, hip, not
hip — I don't care. I like drawing from all sorts of sources to
create my own persona."
While some metrosexuals may simply be indulging in pursuits they had
avoided for fear of being suspected as gay — like getting a pedicure
or wearing brighter colors — others consciously appropriate tropes
of gay culture the way white suburban teenagers have long cribbed
from hip-hop culture, as a way of distinguishing themselves from the
pack. Having others question their sexuality is all part of the
game.
"Wanting them to wonder and having them wonder is a wonderful
thing," said Daniel Peres, the editor in chief of Details, a kind of
metrosexual bible. "It gives you an air of mystery: could he be? It
makes you stand out."
Standing out requires staying on top of which products are hip and
which are not. Marketers refer to such style-obsessed shoppers as
prosumers, or urban influentials — educated customers who are picky
or just vain enough to spend more money or to make an extra effort
in pursuit of their personal look. A man who wants to buy Clinique
for Men, for example, has to want the stuff so badly that he will
walk up to the women's cosmetics counter in a department store,
where Clinique for Men is sold. A man who wants Diesel jeans has to
be willing to pay $135 a pair. A man who insists on Grey Goose has
to get comfortable with paying $14 for a martini.
"The guy who drinks Grey Goose is willing to pay extra," said Lee
Einsidler, executive vice president of Sydney Frank Importing, which
owns Grey Goose. "He does it in all things in his life. He doesn't
buy green beans, he buys haricots verts."
Other retailers hope to entice the man on the fence to get in touch
with his metrosexual side. Oliver Sweatman, the chief executive of
Sharps, a new line of grooming products aimed at young urban men,
said that to lure manly men to buy his new-age shaving gels — which
contain Roman chamomile, gotu kola and green tea — the packaging is
a careful mixture of old and new imagery. The fonts recall the
masculinity of an old barber shop, but a funny picture of a goat on
the label implies, he said, something out of the ordinary.
In an effort to out closeted metrosexuals, Ms. Salzman and her
marketing team at Euro RSCG are working at perfecting polling
methods that will identify "metrosexual markers." One, she noted, is
that metrosexuals like telling their friends about their new finds.
Mr. Martinson, the Bruno Magli-wearing metrosexual, agreed. "I'm not
in marketing," he said, "But when you take a step back, and say,
`Hey, I e-mailed my friends about a great vodka or a great Off
Broadway show,' in essence I am a marketer and I'm doing it for
free."
Most metrosexuals, though, see their approach to life as serving
their own interests in the most important marketing contest of all:
the battle for babes. Their pitch to women: you're getting the best
of both worlds.
Some women seem to buy it. Alycia Oaklander, a 29-year-old fashion
publicist from Manhattan, fell for John Kilpatrick, a Washington
Redskins season ticket holder who loves Budweiser and grilling hot
dogs, in part because of his passion for shopping and women's
fashion shows. On their first dates, Mr. Kilpatrick brought
Champagne, cooked elaborate meals and talked the talk about Ms.
Oaklander's shoes. They were married yesterday.
"He loves sports and all the guy stuff," Ms. Oaklander said. "But on
the other hand he loves to cook and he loves design. It balances
out."
The proliferation of metrosexuals is even having an impact in gay
circles. Peter Paige, a gay actor who plays the character Emmett on
the Showtime series "Queer as Folk," frequently complains in
interviews that he's having a harder time than ever telling straight
men from gays.
"They're all low-slung jeans and working out with six packs and more
hair product than I've ever used in my life, and they smell better
than your mother on Easter," he said. Mr. Paige said there was at
least one significant difference between hitting on metrosexuals and
their less evolved predecessors. "Before, you used to get punched,"
he said. "Now it's all, `Gee thanks, I'm straight but I'm really
flattered.' "
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June 22, 2003.
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