It’s time again for our annual “Vice” issue, and while I don’t
exactly have writing experience in this area, I have been summoned to write a story.
To me, the issue seems like a compilation of off-the-wall topics, which only serve the purpose of entertainment. Originally, I was told to write about pizza addiction. But since I am lactose intolerant, I don’t fit the bill. Then, I was asked to write a story on race car driving, but my own car is from the late Ronald Reagan era and its only purpose is getting me where I want to go.
Finally, last week someone heard me say, “Shit! I totally forgot to bring my hair gel today, and I have to go swimming and then go do interviews. That’s no good.” That sealed my fate in the newsroom.
I now lay myself before the mercy of my audience, not as a sports columnist, but as a self-described “pretty boy.”
I do own a credit card account at Structure.
I do wear Reaction shoes by Kenneth Cole.
And I do spike my hair with a decent amount of gel every morning before I walk out the door.
I wanted to find other pretty boys on the campus, to try and understand the image. I came up with absolutely nothing.
Even with the Gucci glasses and Armani sweaters, the guys I tried to speak to became overly modest about their style and refrained from comment. They appreciated the compliments but felt their image would be affected in a negative way by admitting to the media that they were, in fact, pretty boys.
I am left with no quotes, no interviews and no story. But I was given 15 inches of column space to try and explain the depth of what it is to be classified as ‘pretty.’ If I missed you and you classify yourself in this category, please allow me to apologize. My understanding is that it’s not about feeling self-conscious or always needing to look your absolute best, but simply taking pride in your appearance.
People should take pride in how they present themselves. I am just not the type of person to walk out the door in the morning with tapered blue jeans, white tennis shoes, a tucked-in T-shirt and a rain coat. I would rather walk out in black leather shoes, faded jeans, a fitted shirt and a black wool coat.
For some reason that is beyond me, my hair is what fascinates my colleagues the most. In case you are curious, here goes nothing: I put gel in it once, then blow dry it, add more gel for the wet look and finish it up with a little hair spray for a permanent hold.
It seems a little over the top,
I agree.
My style also seems to plague people with the question of sexuality. I had a good friend of mine tell me once, “you dress too nice to come across as a straight man.”
But, I must say that I am heterosexual — and just because you wear Abercrombie, Express or Armani doesn’t mean anything, despite the classic stereotype that gay men dress nicer than straight men.
I like to think of my style of dress as nice-casual but don’t, in fact, like the term “pretty boy.” However, I must bring this article to an end because I have to re-gel my hair, as a strand has just fallen out of place.