I’ve had the pleasure of working with women from across the globe; Christians, Jews, Muslims, Buddhists, Atheists, you name it.
We may express our faith in different ways, dress differently, and acquiesce to the needs of our partners with varying degrees of grace, but there is one thing about which we all agree.
Pull up a chair sweetheart, and listen very carefully, because this is one lesson every woman needs to learn the first time around.
If a man wants to be with a woman, you can’t keep him away.
Keep in mind, I’m not talking about creepy stalking, and dumped lovers walking along the path to peer through your patio doors (yes, this has happened to me). This kind of behavior deserves a single thump on the testicles with an iron crowbar heated to four-hundred and fifty degrees Fahrenheit. By a guy nicknamed Knuckles.
What we’re talking about here is decent men. The kind of man who is sincere in his courting efforts. A man who knows what he wants, and isn’t afraid of a little challenge. The kind of man who, by his very existence makes you feel like a woman.
So, if you’re fretting away, wondering whether he is ‘the one’ or not ‘the one’, don’t waste your energy. It’s a simple calculation.
Do you wake to a good morning text and eat your three o’clock office chocolate to a check-in email? Does your phone light up the night with a ‘good-night’ or ‘sweet dreams’ ? If you can answer all of these, he’s into you. If it’s no, then he’s not.
No, he did not faint from excitement because you texted, emailed or called. No, he is not always busy Friday or Saturday evening with his mother, sister, grandmother, daughter, aunt, or other such poo-ha.
If he’s busy at night, he’ll drop by with a latte at your office during the day. If he’s busy during the day, he won’t miss an opportunity to keep your company during the evening.
Oh, yes, let’s not forget the tingly bits; He holds your hand, kisses you the first chance he gets, and generally thinks you’re the best thing since his five blade razor.
When men want to be in your life, they’re in your life; You can’t keep them away.
My sweet darlings. It’s been too long. I’ve been busier than a bee in a clover field, but I have not forgotten you. NO! Of course not, how could I?
As last summer was as season of pure indulgence and delight, this summer has been equally intense with hard work and business.
With the onset of summer’s end and harvest (yes, yes, I’m afraid, I did see a leaf fall from a tree today), I have begun the work of nesting for the long, cold, winter months that are meant for snuggling and indulging in all pleasures of the flesh; Rich wine and food, long stretches of night with our lovers and languishing weekend afternoons reading, writing and socializing to our hearts’ content.
I was listening to some Rachmaninoff in the tubby-wubby last night, sunk up to my shoulders and sipping hot tea. I was thinking of someone special…a tall dark and handsome someone…or someone(s).
A someone who had in the past, perched on the floor and recited Neruda poetry and poured Cava for me as I indulged in a long soak. There was also a someone who always unwrapped a small, fresh bar of lemon soap and ran a bath for me while he prepared dinner (making sure to have a glass of beautiful Burgundy at the ready). The man who always knew what hors d’oeuvres and drink to order before I even got to the restaurant.
I also thought about the man who would take me to a pub every Friday night and how genuinely happy he was as we sipped our beer and took in the live music. There was also the fellow who bumped me around a perfect autumn in California wine country, in a jeep that had an endless stream of Van Morrison playing.
Ah yes, the memories came flooding back.
In my friskier days, I was a woman who knew exactly what her décolletage was capable of. I knew what temptation I could bait with a shy smile, a quick breath on the neck, an innocent dance or a look of surprise.
These days I know that the relationships I desire with the more handsome sex require no secret hooks, just sincerity, generosity and compassion.
After all ladies, these poor little men-folk think we’re all just fabulous as we are. For the handsome princes who are eager to please, so should we be. The rest can rot darlings.
As I mature, my intimate moments with men have taken on a flavor of deep friendship, mutual respect, and long-standing companionship. My lovers are my friends, and not a nemesis to be conquered or toyed with.
Don’t get me wrong friends, I still have my sly wit and twisted sense of humour. I’m not completely cured of an occasional indulgence of ego. Especially with the young ones. After all, they’re just so damn cute!
I’ve merely fallen in love, time and again, with the wonderful, lush machismo of my male compadres. The temptations are no longer superficial and fleeting. They are real, meaningful, and abundant with promise.
Wishing you the joy of lovers who are friends, lemon soap, and at least one fellow who knows how to order your favourite drink without having to ask.
As a very serious university student who prided myself in my ability to be objective, I wrote, and presented a paper on “Love” for a religious studies class. Love? what is love but a bio-chemical reaction and instinctual perpetuation of the species? I focussed on evolutionary theories of male/female relationships.
Men were hunter gatherers, bred to be sly, silent and killers of beasts. Women were socialized to reproduce and nurture the community through communication and preparing nutritious food from woolly mammoth bones. In some cultures multiple partners ensured men never knew who their own offspring were, so they just provided for everyone. How lovely.
We’re in the twenty-first century now, and there have been a number of articles, studies and theories about the waning necessity of men. After all, women no longer need a big, strong, male with a larger proportion of muscle mass to go out and wrestle woolly mammoths to drag back to the home fires. Women have better educations, and although still fall short of pay equity, can maintain their own homes and provide for their children all on their own.
One could argue that because of the extinction (other than sperm to perpetuate the species) of the necessity of men, we’ve seen increased media pressure for men to meet an aesthetic ideal. After all, igniting wild pheromones in the opposite sex might actually ensure ‘his’ survival.
Looking at Details’ Special Grooming Guide, I will make an opposing argument. We are feminizing our men. We are waxing them smooth, selling them the equivalent of summer frocks in multiple ‘in style’ suits, ties and footwear.
I look at the short piece on”How to Get The Perfect Shave Every Time“, with no fewer than 16 man’sthetics. 16! Most women do with fewer accessories for a full make-up application. The photo shows a tousel-haired man with shaving cream on his face, a razor poised to make the next swipe, and a white towel draped around his neck. Subtly sexy.
There are few things more sexy, more arousing than watching a man shave. It’s something we women don’t do. Well, except the bearded lady that was one of my great-aunt’s friends, but that’s another story for my therapist. Shaving is something very masculine. Kinda like standing up to pee in that macho one-hand-on-the-beast, the other hanging nonchalantly at your side, fly open, and pants hanging from your thrusting hips pose that only men can do. These are two things that I will never be able to do, and that’s why I love you and want to kiss your freshly shaven, smooth, yummy smelling skin. I don’t want to kiss layers of moisturizer, fragrance and wrinkle cream. If I wanted that, I’d kiss the day care-lady. Bleck!
Then there’s waxing. Sure, I’m just like the next woman. The thought of seeing Channing Tatum take it all off in Magic Mike makes me tingle in the warm and lovely places that I wax. Hollywood has capitalized on his defined pecs, highlighted by a smoothly oiled wax job.
The reality of it is completely different. I have had the good fortune to snuggle next to very masculine chests ranging from smooth as a baby’s bottom to completely hair inhabited. Do I have a preference? Of course. Just like I have a preference for circumcised or not-circumcised.
Most women’s basic preference is NOT CACTUS-PRICKLY. Cuddling next to a man who trims too close to the skin, or waxes, always results in a big ol’ prickly cactus. No woman wants to rub up against or snuggle that. Special note here, same goes for your weiner patch. Groom, don’t shave. It’s like humping a hairbrush.
Although the name “Nuxe Creme Fraiche de Beaute Formule Light” appeals to my vain nature, hearing a man sing the praises of the product would certainly affect how attractive he is to the opposite sex. Non Monsieur. Non, non, non. Merci, mais non.
So think about it gents. Think about the fine balance between making the most of your assets as you prep for a long weekend of hot summer wooing. We want yummy smelling, clean, strong, intelligent manly-men. We are feminine, and don’t need vain-girly-men to balance out the energy in our lives. Don’t misunderstand me – do take care of yourself; work out,go for a massage, even a pedicure. Heck, we’ve evolved, and every woman loves a bit of a renaissance man.
Long, long ago, and far, far away, I dated a charming foreigner who dressed well, complete with cufflinks and coiffed hair. He was stylish and masculine. He, ironically wore the same ‘rare’ cologne of my previous beaux. I loved that he was tall, strong, and worldly. He had a wicked sense of humour, and took care of things.
And then it happened. It was sleep over time for an extended stay. I learned his dirty little secret. He panicked when he ran out of Clarins. I mean absolutely had-to-make-me-go-to-the-beauty-counter for him to buy the multiple products for his skin care regime. Having him tear up over his five step skin care regime was about as sexy as socks on a rooster. He was reduced to tears over the thought of showing his age. ‘Buddy’, I thought to myself, ‘I’ve seen you naked from the waste down. Skin cream isn’t going to save you.’
The bottom line – let yourself be physically manly in a subtle, simply groomed way. Let yourself be emotionally available, and then, and only then gentlemen, will you be irresistable. Millions of products manvertised in your men’s mags won’t ever give you that kind of raw sex appeal.
Often, I have been complimented on my own skin. I believe it’s because I keep it simple. Soap, moisturizer and drinking lots of water. Ok, ok, the extra chub in my cheeks also smooths out the wrinkles. Oh yah, sex is a wonderfully fun and inexpensive way to get a little glow too. That’s the real secret.