Don’t tell anyone will ya? I’ve always had a fetish for the geek; the guy with slightly skewed fashion sense, and brains galore.
The really sexy guys are the ones who can lay you out with their scars and leave you breathless as they skirt every last inch of your body with their hunger, not the ones you dominate because they need to be reigned in a little.
Don’t get me wrong here fellas. Women don’t want some mess of insecurity or a homeless guy on their hands, but they do want a man who would appreciate a woman’s touch.
There is an undeniable sexiness about a man who is competent. On the other hand, there is no bigger turn off than being with a man who has to do everything bigger and better than you can. Competence with a window of opportunity for a woman’s touch is a nice compromise.
This little rant is brought to you courtesy of Leonardo DiCaprio‘s sexy mug on the cover of the October issue of GQ. Manliciously staring at me from under his ever-concerned brows, wrapped in a snug pea coat, I could hardly leave his image stranded there on the rack. $5.99 later, sweet Leo was at home on my chesterfield.
Leo wasn’t perfect though you see. It was the subtle imperfection that caught my eye (subconsciously maybe, but eye-catching still). Even a man as accomplished and intelligent as Mr. DiCaprio he was, underneath his stylish coat and turned up collar, wearing a rumpled tee. Above the well-groomed skin and hair, the voice of that tee screamed to my x chromosome, “I’m all man, and there’s room for a woman in my life…”, or something like that.
This weekend I shared a conversation with a gentleman whom I had made the acquaintance of at least once or twice before. There was something oddly attractive about him, and I couldn’t quite put my finger on it until I flipped through the pages of GQ.
Like other issues, the pages unravelled countless instructions and tips about how to be a man. There were instructions for making a bed so a woman would want to come back to it, how to pack a carry-on, and which eye-glass frames would create the ideal persona.
That was it! His eyeglasses. That’s what must have subconsciously whispered “geeky-sexy” to me while I talked to this guy. His glasses looked like something that survived 1977, and needed retirement. They matched his blue and white plaid sport coat. Does anyone even know what a sport coat is any more? Anyway, the guy was intelligent – a doctor of medicine nonetheless – friendly, and knew how to carry a conversation and, he could have used a little TLC. Perfect.
I caught myself fantasizing about putting my glasses on him, getting him a tousled up hair cut and dressing him in some jeans and a nice cozy sweater. Sexy, very sexy.
I fantasized that there were actually men out there who knew how to ask a woman on a date, and were a little shy in their own geeky way.
You see guys, women don’t want you to be perfect. Perfection with a chink in it is like a chipped piece of china – if you try to cover the crack, that’s all you see. Imperfection on the other hand is endearing like a homemade quilt or your favourite pair of jammies. You can love that without ever being afraid it will fail you.
Contrary to linen advice in GQ, women will come back to your bed regardless of the matching shams. So long as the bed is clean, and the company is genuine, you have no worry about return guests.
Perfection needs a lesson in wanting, and the vulnerable get offered up a feast. Or so it is in my wee, little, girl-brain.