I care about what my man likes and doesn’t like. I care about his opinion on social issues and political platforms. I care about his culinary tastes when we’re out for dinner and what kind of music he prefers to listen to.
But do I care if he likes what I wear? Not really.
In fact, I’m always a bit ... taken aback ... when my beloved has input into what I buy or what I decide to put on. Case in point: after an impromptu outing at a discount store a few weeks ago, I was all proud to show him a few pairs of sandals that I got for (cue the tambourines and organ chord) $4 a pair. Like these above.
He absolutely hated them. H-a-t-e-d. Still high off of my bargain-basement-cheap-but-still-adorably-cute fashion finding, I was surprised when Mr. Blackwell over there scrunched up his nose and declared, “Flat shoes should kill bugs and swat flies. Women should wear stilettos every day, all the time.”
That comment was brought to you by a Sexist Man Moment, which he had the nerve to cap off with a chuckle. Yeah, honey. Hardy har har.
First of all, there are plenty of men who can dress their butts off, dapper dudes who can put together outfits as fly and well thought out as any woman. But God bless his precious little heart, my boyfriend is not one of them. He’s a polo and jeans and fitted cap kind of guy. If that’s what he can run into the store and grab fast enough to get the heck out of Marshall’s or Macy’s as expeditiously as he possibly can, that’s what he’s going to buy. He keeps it real basic.
I, on the other hand, am a self-professed style maven. Love clothes and accessories, love shopping, love experimenting with different looks — but my heart sings, my knees quiver, and my palms sweat over some shoes. I am a footwear addict: boots, sneakers, sandals, Mary Janes. Love, love, love, and love some more. (Except loafters and Uggs. Just can’t get aboard those bandwagons.)
Needless to say, my pulse races over some hot-to-death four-inch heels. I own a gazillion pairs of them. But dangit, teetering almost a half a foot off the ground while dodging utility grates in the sidewalk, climbing a mountain’s height in stairs, and zipping in and out of cars, cabs, and public transportation is nowhere as easy as it looks — and the crap isn’t very often comfortable, I don’t care how high-end they are. I explained this to him. His blank stare told me that it really didn’t matter. Women, he said, are just 10 times sexier in stilettos than they are in flats. He pulled some of his favorites from my closet:
These are hot, but they definitely have a time limit. Don't pass go for more than 3 hours at a time.
Bet y'all can't guess who bought these for my birthday last year? And they're 5 inches, not 4.
Oh well. He can exemplify all he wants to. Homeboy has been forewarned that, in that case, he might be in for a long, hot, sexy-less summer because this glamour girl is trying to take it down a peg or two in the interest of foot relief and a little bit of comfort. It’s not that I don’t want him to drool over me swaying my hips in my stiletto swagger. I do. But dangit, shouldn’t everything I wear have that effect on him, from my big fluffy coat to my flat, gladiator sandals? I thought it was the person in the gear that made the gear sexy, not the other way around. I love towering heels too much to take them too far out of the rotation. But he might be the one who has to grin and bear it.
Another pair of boyfriend repellents
At least I'll be happy in my "crappy" little flats, and that's all right with me.
Do you wear what your man likes, even if you don’t particularly care for it? Do you have something in your wardrobe that he absolutely hates?