Story here: short version is a male TV anchor in Australia wore the same suit on air every day for a year without anyone noticing, even as his female co-host was routinely praised or criticized for her outfits.
"You look a bit like Sheldon Cooper with your clothing choices today," said my darling wife on her way out the door.
True to form, I failed to see the problem. I was (and am) clad in a pair of what are for some reason called pajama pants (I don't know any--well, adult male--who wears anything more than maybe underwear to bed) and a sweater. Black and grey all around, what's the issue here? I had no plans to go anywhere.
I know better if I'm going someplace...I'll wear jeans in good repair at the very least...but I'll do it grudgingly. It's not like I'll complain to anyone other than the inside of my own head, but I simply do not appreciate most clothing. My sole criterion for clothing is this: is it comfortable? If yes, add to cart. If not, let it rot.
Most of my professional life I've had to wear a uniform of some kind, and they're always ill-fitting, itchy, and generally unpleasant. And that's without having to wear, say, a suit and tie, which is low-grade torture that nobody with any sense would willingly put up with. And yet we all do. Not only that, we treat people vastly differently depending on whether they're wearing a suit or not.
And yes, I know this from personal experience, too. Apparently I clean up well: I've drawn countless double-takes and even a few triple-takes on those few occasions I suit up. I'm supposed to feel flattered at this. I don't. I feel annoyed instead. C'mon, people, explain this to me. Did my hair change colour? Did this suit come with a six-pack? Can I suddenly leap tall buildings in a single bound? Am I suddenly smarter, funnier, more compassionate?
You know what I think it is? A suit costs anywhere from, what, a hundred bucks on up into the thousands. If I can afford to waste that kind of cash on stuff to cover my body, who knows what I might buy you?
Yeah. a suit makes a man attractive. But apparently nobody notices a man if he wears the same suit every day for a year.
Women, I ask you: what would happen if you wore the same outfit two days in a row? Let alone a week straight? Let's assume it's properly laundered and you don't smell like deodorant failure. Wouldn't matter, would it? You're probably horrified at the mere thought. People would talk. Your professional reputation would be ruined. All over some scraps of cloth.
One of my dear friends--a woman, oddly--thinks much the same way I do: she owns the bare minimum of clothing and she wears whatever she feels like (within reason) on any given day. I've kidded her about it...but I hope she understands the sincere admiration behind my jibes. She's smart and frugal and as far as I'm concerned she's got her priorities straight.
Even she wouldn't wear the same thing day in and day out for a year. Hell, I wouldn't do that, not even on a bet or a dare. I'd get sick and tired of doing laundry every single night, for one thing.
Look, I kind of get it. All of us use our eyes...supposedly men use theirs differently from women. A study has found that men are significantly more motivated by sociosexual visual cues than are women; the hypothesis is that rapid response to such visual cues ensures men a great chance of passing on their genes. (You never hear that women are interested in passing on their genes; why is that?) Maybe my crappy vision has led to a disconnect, or at least a distrust, between how I see things and how things are, and that explains why I almost completely ignore outward appearances.
But the thing is: things, and especially people, often aren't how they look. We all know this: we've all heard "don't judge a book by its cover". This makes me wonder how and why people, especially men, routinely disregard such a basic lesson.
Women, by and large, have their own oddities. Shoes..big one there. It's a given that high heels absolutely wreck most of your body. Women insist on wearing them anyway, claiming that men insist they have to. Not this man, it goes without saying. I'm told they're sexy. Yeah...nerve damage, spider veins, and soreness everywhere...that gets my motor revving, how about yours? If they're not wearing heels, they're wearing sandals or flip-flops or something else guaranteed bad for the feet. So much masochism.
Shoes are also the first thing women notice on men. This utterly baffles me. I mean, I understand if the guy's wearing hip waders in the desert, or if there's a big hole in the toe and the sole is flopping, that's bad. Beyond that kind of obviousness, what the hell are you looking at shoes for? Do you interact with them? Do they tell you if the guy's a cheater? I mean, of all the things you could be looking at, feet seem to be the silliest. Hello? I'm up here.
I can hear you now. If all he cares about is his own comfort, he's a selfish unfeeling prick.
Dead wrong.
I've been called a lot of things, but in my entire adult life I've never been called selfish, unfeeling, or a prick. Oftentimes I wish I was at least a little more unfeeling and selfish and prickly. Here's the thing: If I'm not constantly having to flex my toes, or scratch myself, or concentrate on my tie not choking me to death, I'm going to be able to spare a lot more attention for you (and you and you...)
I tell you right now, allow people to wear sweatpants or pajama pants to work and productivity would skyrocket. Men--men could probably get away with it. Women, not so much....and that's not just a shame, it's a travesty. "It's not professional!"--look. Obscene tattoos are not professional. Nudity isn't professional (though how I wish I lived in a world where it was...it'd save me a lot of money on scraps of cloth. BEHAVIOUR may not be professional. Clothes...are clothes. If they're clean and in good shape...that's good enough for me.
No comments:
Post a Comment