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Men…they don’t dress up, they get down!

Salena Marie is all dressed up and her man friend looks like he just rolled out of bed.

This morning, Dave came over and told me he wanted to ask me a question because he thought it would be a good topic for discussion.

By discussion, I mean that he had an idea rolling around his head for the Blog but he couldn’t write it because he is a guy and it was more of a chick thing.

(I do want to note that Dave started this conversation by asking me about high heels, in case anyone wants to wonder why Dave was thinking about high heels at nine a.m. on a Monday. But I digress…)

See, Dave was on Lincoln Road this weekend. Lincoln Road is a place to see people and be seen on South Beach. If you sit at one of the restaurants long enough, you might see the whole world go by. Which, according to Dave, he did. And throughout his people-watching episode, he began to pick up on a pattern. He noticed that all the women were wearing fuck-me pumps. He also noticed that they looked like they spent hours getting ready.

“Now, I gotta ask you, Ma-rear…(Which is what it sounds like when Dave says Maria, I swear.) don’t those shoes hurt? In 20 years from now, all those women are going to have serious feet and leg problems,” said Dave.

To which I replied:

“Yes, they hurt. But they look so amazing, so we deal with it.”

To which Dave countered:

“Okay, but you know what? The guys they were with were dressed like schleps. I mean, they really weren’t dressed up at all. These women looked like they spent time picking out their outfits and these guys were in jeans and white shirts. They were totally under-dressed. How does that happen? Why don’t guys have to dress up?”

And that is the point of this blog. I am going to explain why men don’t have to dress up.

I am a chick. When I go out on a date, it’s like I am gearing up for war. There’s waxing, manicures, pedicures and hairdos to be done. There’s nice panties and bras to be worn. There’s makeup and outfits and accessories and shoes. There’s perfume to spray and a purse to fill with other chick arsenal stuff. Then I have to make sure that my outfit, hair and makeup look amazing all night. All in case I might, maybe, perhaps play a little baseball that night. You know…maybe first base, maybe second…or maybe I’m scoring a home run.

Why do I do all this shit?

I often find myself asking that question because the general consensus among the men I hang out with is that I could show up in a tight t-shirt and jeans with beer in hand and probably still get laid.

But I promise you, if I was walking down the street in my hot chick outfit and my doppleganger was walking around in my favorite Led Zeppelin T-shirt, the hotter, possibly sluttier version of me would get more man action.

Why?

Because the dressed-up version of me screams SEX. That’s why. All that extra crap I do to get ready is to attract attention. Because chicks are competing with other chicks. Because we like to work men up and make them want us. Because we like to be looked at.

And why don’t men have to dress up and do all that other fancy shit we do to get ready to go out?

Because men should operate under the rules of KEEP IT SIMPLE STUPID.

I don’t want to date some guy who gets manicures and whose eyebrows look nicer than mine. I don’t want to have to wait for HIM to finish getting ready. I certainly don’t think any man should wear ANYTHING with sequins or sparkles on it.

In fact, the scruffier and more-rugged a man looks, the more he appeals to me. It’s that whole lumberjack, I-can-chop-down-trees-and-use-tools-and-squash-bugs-and-lift-you-and-throw-you-around-and-be-manly factor. That’s how a man exudes sex. A man’s job is to make a woman want to see him naked, not dressed-up.

And that’s why men don’t have to be fancy to impress a woman. They don’t dress up, they get down, and I am all for that.

Do you see why I had to write this blog and not Dave?

Yeah…me, too.

lol

What do you guys think?

xoxo,

Maria