Dandyism, Slobbism and Manliness

I recently bought a coffee table book called The Art of Manliness for a Christmas gift exchange coming up. The book argues for a return to the ideals of manliness as embodied by Theodore Roosevelt and Benjamin Franklin. The book isn't trying to ignore or counter feminism, it is simply throwing its weight into a comeback of old-school masculinity updated for the modern era.

It advocates chivalry, hats and the man hug while proffering advice on how to braid your daughter's hair, start a fire with sticks and practice good etiquette on Facebook. While I differ on many things in the book there is no doubt that the median American male is woefully deluded with regards to what it means to be a man.

Manliness is not about being dirty, stupid, crude or wearing earth tones. There was a time when all significant intellectual contributions were produced by men, when male friends professed love for one another, when they spent just as much on their clothes as women and knew how to dance. While I applaud womens' increasing level of education, status and pay, I believe firmly in reversing trends towards men becoming less civilized.

The first threat to manliness is homophobia. Only 35 years ago "flamboyant" shirts were the height of men's fashion. Years ago, gay subculture wisely appropriated components of 19th century Dandyism. Heterosexual guys are too concerned about not "looking gay", "talking gay" or "acting gay". An entire wing of English vocabulary has been red-taped as "gay", including the word gay itself. Sometimes even including vocabulary itself. Everybody needs to chill the fuck out. I refuse to allow my self-expression to be hemmed in by subcultures I don't identify with, particularly ones with such good taste.

Being confused for being gay has a simple fix. Fears of such confusion are never primarily motivated by practical considerations. Furthermore, there is no necessary conflict between being (or seeming) gay and being manly. As the Greeks understood, homoeroticism reeks of manliness. That and the simplicity of interacting with men make homosexuality attractive to me, such that I occasionally find myself regretting my orientation. Though Jill finds me frustratingly heterosexual, I normally find my admittedly unidirectional sexuality rather enlightened.

I like things that are pretty. I'd like to look pretty, not to mention ostentatious and self-assured. I find myself buying the most radical clothing offered to men. Fuck earth tones. I got a pair of tight-fitting bright red pants over Thanksgiving. My mom thought they looked gay, but red pants are rock star pants in my book. Truth be told they're more scene than gay anyways, but I shouldn't care because that's missing the point. Wearing bright colors is fucking badass, whether it's pink or lime green or purple or fire engine red. "Paisley Dress Shirt" has been on my Christmas wish list for three years in a row, but good ones are damn hard to find.

Having a large vocabulary and physically touching men are also things hampered by homophobia. I've found it interesting how little physical touch is required to inspire paranoia in friends of mine; a brush of the shoulder, touching someone's hair or physically guiding someone's body or hand are all socially innocuous when done to girls of proper familiarity. Also, I've gotten my fair share of raised eyebrows for my vocabulary from strangers with whom I'm conversing. Men and women, gay and straight, should all feel entitled to the full range of the English language.

The second threat to manliness is the feminist movement. Make note that just as with homosexuality this is in no way a disparagement nor a complaint against feminism. Much of masculinity and femininity are necessarily defined by sexual dimorphism. That is, by natural opposition. Masculinity consequently includes being big, strong, emotionally stable, analytical and aggressive. However, this opposition extends into the more arbitrary aspects of sexual distinction. The aspect I am most concerned with is studiousness.

It used to be assumed that men were the most intelligent, artistic and studious sex. Science has since contradicted most of this and society has demonstrated womens' equal capacities. Unfortunately the culture of masculinity, once so gloriously self-celebrating and productive, has begun to stigmatize learning, creativity, demonstration of intellect and other formerly manly academic endeavors. This is reflected in statistics showing boys earning lower average grades and having lower admission rates to college despite studies showing that they are still just as smart as girls.

The fact that boys are told, whether explicitly or implicitly, that getting good grades is neither cool nor manly is an inadmissible sin both for its effect on men and on society as a whole. We must work to change culture to celebrate true men as being academically driven and fashionable, not boorish slobs.

The Gift

Christmas is about giving, among other things, and let me tell you, I totally get the whole "joy of giving" thing. I love to pick presents for people I know and love. I even vaguely like giving gifts to people I don't actually care about.

My favorite person to buy for is my sister and I give her props for the best gift I received this year: a garden gnome. Gifts like that remind me Christmas can be untainted by commercialism. Gifts don't have to be valuable to be personal and yet they don't have to be handmade to avoid the ominous specter of commercialism. While it is important to exchange gifts of comparable value with peers, the absolute monetary value of gift giving is fairly arbitrary. My sister and I have yet to spend twenty dollars on a gift for one another.

I also love receiving gifts, but not without reservations. I hate improperly chosen gifts ("white elephants") and I hate gift cards. Oh, how I hate gift cards. Gift cards manage to be both impersonal and impractical. Surely nobody really believes that a gift card to Starbucks is more personal than handing me cash? At least cash doesn't take up extra space in my wallet. Using gift cards is a chore, even in the lucky circumstance that I actually shop at the specified retailer.

As the joy of giving is double that of receiving, the horror of poor gift giving is double that of receiving bad gifts, so I hate being expected to choose something personal when I don't know my audience. In fact, the bane of my Christmas existence is the gift exchange for our large, extended family in Louisiana. In it I usually give terrible gifts and receive terrible gifts. It's not like we don't love each other, I just happen to live far away and see them infrequently. Additionally, there are massive age barriers to contend with. My cousins range from 13 to 31 and many of my aunts and uncles don't have children my age. The task is always a worthy challenge, though. I'm starting to think of finding appropriate, interesting semi-specific gifts as quite the art form.

One way or another, I hope you will reflect on the gifts you have given and received this Christmas season. Periodically we all forget to fully embrace the joy of giving and receiving, especially when we neglect to immerse ourselves in holiday movies.

Max's Christmas Punch

It's that time of year and this is a girl drink we can all rally behind. I came upon this when Jill told me to have a Cran and Vodka and we didn't have any Vodka. I debuted it at my annual Christmakah party last night.

1 shot Rum (any kind)

2 shots Cranberry Juice

2 dashes Angostura Bitters

I always thought Angostura smelled like Christmas, it just took the right setting to bring the Christmas cheer.