M(ore) M(etro) M(usings)!!!

11. You know you're Metro when inspite of being stricken with a debilitating case of stomach flu, you're overcome by a nagging sense of social responsibility which compels you to render a public service by sharing an excellent article from your local newspaper on the dwindling number of men who wear ties in an admirable last ditch effort to encourage a renewed interest in the sadly dying age-old gentlemanly art form over Facebook.

This time I'm referring to a good personal friend of ours and co-owner of the fine bespoke tailoring shop of his namesake, Pellegrino Castronovo who is the second runner up to my title "favorite metro" because he's probably the only other one I know (strictly speaking!) besides Kumee!

I've actually been asked why I am such good friends with Peter's better half, Patty, considering the polarity of our ethnic backgrounds. The answer is in fact, quite simple: we both have something in common, namely, Metro husbands! It takes another girl married to a metro man to fully understand the full import of Metrosexuality and the pressure of, in Patty's own words, keeping up with men who are "constantly conspiring to look better than we do!" and not looking like "doorknobs" beside them - sentiments that I totally share and dig!!! But what's probably the most unfair thing about this is, after all that "conspiring," our respective husbands quickly forget about the time they had spent getting dressed in the morning, and carry themselves for the rest of the day with grace reminiscent of that of Fred Astaire - without any awkward fidgeting, yanking at their ties, loosening of their collars, letting out of their waistbands after lunch or (God forbid!) "adjusting of themselves" (lol) !

This "keeping up" poses less of a problem to Patty than as it does to me. Being Lebanese, her more than the usual attention to personal grooming and appearance as compared to her average non-Lebanese contemporary is almost innate and works well to her advantage. If you ever walk into Adonis, you'd think the ladies were having audience with her Majesty, the Queen, rather than with their friendly neighbourhood
butcher for some, I don't know, Kafta or pre-marinated Shish Taouk (??) with their carefully painted faces and perfectly coiffed hair. But that's really not a bad stereotype to have and I can't be critical either of Patty for the time she takes herself to get dolled up, because the end-result is virtually flawless (airbrushed!) perfection!!! As for myself, looking presentable alongside Kumar, admittedly, can present a little more of a challenge and a few times I've had to beg him to "dress down" a bit, but I wouldn't say that I'm that hopeless, either, I mean, I take
care, too, but the time I spend less than expertly wielding my hairbrush in one hand and my hairdryer on the other and fumbling clumsily with my wand of mascara is more or less reasonable, and then again, I have two kids...

I'm glad that Peter had shared that article yesterday highlighting the downhill trend towards overly casual dress that a lot, if not the majority of men these days have taken, even in settings and contexts that normally call for a measure of formality. The overall tone of the piece is sad and you sense the author's nostalgia for a time long past when men simply dressed in a way befitting of "real" men and not boys - a loss that Peter, Kumar, Patty and myself, and no doubt, every other metrosexual (and their better halves!) share and mourn, too...