What Men Want

A few weeks ago while hanging out with my college roomie, we discussed a common observation amongst ladies of a certain age. Our age, that is.

The two of us are, quite proudly, slaves to the feminine ideal. I myself have spent hundreds, probably more like thousands of dollars over the course of the past decade or so making myself pretty for my preferred sex. I'm guessing lots of girls are in my same boat. We buy makeup and hair products and tight skinny jeans, we cram our feet into high heeled shoes that lengthen our legs and kill our toes, and shove our breasts into constricting bras that lift and smoosh and are designed to attract the penis-having kind.

But you know when guys go the craziest? You know when it was my high school boyfriend decided he fell in love with me (at least, according to him)? You know when my roomie's long-term boyfriend says she looked the hottest she's ever looked, and had to attack her right then and there?

I was fresh out of the shower, in cutoff sweats and a wife beater, and she was in borrowed drawstring pants four sizes too big.

Seriously, what the fuck?

Apparently, what men want is not heels and curls and face paint, it's wet hair and baggy pajamas and zero fucks given.

Is it the vulnerability that's appealing? Seeing a woman at her most undone, like she's in bed? Or is it just that guys really do prefer a more natural look, if "natural" means "no effort"?

I don't know. I don't get it.

I'm still gonna paint myself up, though. 'Cause that saying is true, girls really do dress up for girls, not for guys. And I dress up for me, because it makes me feel better about myself.

But seriously, I know if I really want to snag me a husband, I just need to go out looking like crap.

Wait. I do that anyway.