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Retrosexual Man

This is the story of how my husband got mugged at the chemist's. It wasn't his fault. In certain matters, he is as innocent as a newborn baby and should not be allowed to roam around unsupervised at cosmetics counters. In other words, he's a genuine guy.

Genuine guys are sometimes known as retrosexuals, to distinguish them from metrosexuals, who are mean with the good taste of gay men, only they're straight. Metrosexuals are particular about theie grooming and great consumers of men's cosmetic products. They use hair gel. Retrosexuals are scared of hair gel.

Secretly I've always thought my husband could stand to be just a little bit more metro. Sometimes I buy him fancy shaving cream and leave it suggestively on his side of sink. He never gets the hint. He prefers a ten-second dry shave with a plastic disposable razor and toilet paper to stanch the wounds.

From time to time my husband's retrosexuality bothers me. He can't understand why it's time to paint the kitchen when we just painted it 9 years ago. He doesn't grasp why we need expensive blinds on the kitchen windows when we leave permanently rolled up. He's baffled that my haircuts cost ten times more than his do, and he thinks massages are a waste fo time. There're many things on which we'll never see eye to eye.

But there're advantages to my husband's retrosexual orientation, and they are large. For example, being completely indifferent to appearance, a retrosexual will never compain that you're putting on weight. This is one of the foundation stones of a good marriage. Also, it's easy to impress him with your culinary skills. My husband is so grateful to get out of kitchen duty, he brags about my cooking even though it's usually quite lousy. He is happy to do certain household tasks, like garbage duty and replacing light bulbs. He knows it's his job to talk to plumbers and electricians. We have lapsed into tired gender stereotypes. We don't care. We only wish there were a third gender to clean the kitty litter.

I blame myself for the mugging at the chemist's. I never shlould have let him to go alone. Something similar would have happened if I'd wandered into an electronics store and tried to buy a fancy new TV. The chance of a good outcome is remote.

The trouble began when he noticed his feet were dry and itchy. He blames his new socks. Off he went to the chemist to get something to rub on them. He was excited when he got home. " This will do the trick", he said and showed me a small bottle. According to the label, the ingredients included Vichy thermal-spa water from France, which explains why th bottle cost $43.

" You've been mugged ", I said. He didn't know he could have got exactly what he needed ( minus the Vichy water) for $3.99 to reat his itchy feet.

Naturally I teased him ever since. But actually I have no interest in men who are interested in skin care. I'm happy to let them worry about oil level in the car. Some might call this sexist . I call it a sensible division of labor. And it's a chief benefit of marriage.