I have a problem.
It seems I have given people a reason to believe that I am...I am...ugh, that--well--I'm a metrosexual. Ahem. A metrosexual.
Now before I go attesting why I feel this statement is devoid of any truth, let me share with you a few responses I collected on Facebook throughout the day yesterday regarding what people feel the definition of "metrosexual" actually is.
With an overwhelming response, I picked the best of the best to share:
Let me start by saying that, if I had to be honest, I didn't appreciate the 'Like' on that last comment. Now surely there's nothing wrong with being a metrosexual, but by the definitions of my peers, it just isn't me (at least I don't think it is).
For instance, I could have sworn teal and aqua were synonymous, but I was of course proven otherwise. You learn something new everyday -- or is that not what the kids say?
I'd also like to note that I absolutely freaking HATE going to the mall, for so many reasons.
- I hate teenagers
- I wouldn't be caught dead wearing the garbage (yes garbage) stores like Hollister, American Eagle or J.Crew sell
- Why would I spend $80 on a pair of jeans when I can get a pair for $20 at Kohls?
- Malls have a tendency to reek of pretentiousness in that their patrons have an overwhelming and unjustified sense of fashion and trend
When asked by friends what my definition of a metrosexual is, I found "iced tips" to be the first phrase out of my mouth, to which they responded, "Just because you know what iced tips are Trey, that makes you a metro."
Now, perhaps it's true that I like to look nice when I go out. It may also be true that more often than not you'll see me sporting a blazer in homage to the great Hank Moody, but that doesn't mean that I'm a metrosexual, does it? I don't read New York Magazine, I've never gotten a manicure or pedicure (nor will I ever), and I have no aspirations of being gay. I won't compare myself to other men in their 'women getting,' but I can say that I do well enough for myself.
As mush as I hate to admit it, this all seems rather inconclusive. Of course I take pride in how I look, but give me a break, my aspirations lay in acting. Acting in films. That are seen. By people. I want to look good! It's a self esteem thing.
So, against my better judgment, I'll once again leave the decision making in the hands of you. Take a second, scroll down and click in a vote. Don't be too cruel.
Do you know anyone else who puts themselves out there like this? Tell me in the comment thing below.
Some Shameless Promotion
Dear Lucy is new!
The only thing I know for certain is that until tonight, until I read your previous letter for the second, third and fourth times, I never realized how alike we truly are. You and I have both certainly romanticized our overseas relationship for going on the better part of 2010, but that was [to me] due in part to our vivid imaginations and lack of acceptance of the state of the world that we live in.
Click this stupidly large button:
I have been given orders by the International Coalition of End-of-the-World Affairs to plan the biggest party this planet has ever seen. Official details can be found here.
Be sure to RSVP and invite your friends to a truly apocalyptic party!