Are we dizzy yet? Some people were just beginning to sort out the old categories, but new species seem to be popping out all over, contributing to a delightful confusion for those who welcome life, and a nightmare for the half-dead.

He's well dressed, narcissistic and bun-obsessed. But don't call him gay.


For some time now, old-fashioned (re)productive, repressed, unmoisturized heterosexuality has been given the pink slip by consumer capitalism. The stoic, self-denying, modest straight male didn't shop enough (his role was to earn money for his wife to spend), and so he had to be replaced by a new kind of man, one less certain of his identity and much more interested in his image -- that's to say, one who was much more interested in being looked at (because that's the only way you can be certain you actually exist). A man, in other words, who is an advertiser's walking wet dream.

Mark Simpson's essay concludes with a caution however.
The final irony of male metrosexuality is that, given all its obsession with attractiveness, vanity for vanity's sake turns out to be not very sexy after all.

But then, it's much too late for second thoughts. Metrosexuality is heading out of the closet, and learning to love itself. Even more.

Look at so many generations y's and late gen x's, they are obsessed with looks, style and appeal. I see more men catching their reflection in the shop window than women. I have male friends who love to shop, and they spend the bucks and want your opinion. Ten years ago I was doing this with my gay mates, now, my hetro's, sorry metro's are the shopping kings. Personally, as a woman, bring on the footy, beer and pizza!

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Published on July 23, 2002 12:16 PM.

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