At some point (fueled only partially by my second glass of pinot grigio), I lamented "all the good ones are gay, taken, or Jason Segel" and began a minor treatise on the perils and apparent bullshit of dating in the 21st century as a 32-year old (divorced) woman, followed by a rant on what is and is not worthy of looking for in a man and how these have changed over the course of my adult dating life. When I finally paused to take a breath--me, loquacious?--this wonderful friend said "you should blog about this." So here I am. And, since I am recently Back to Dating, at the risk of coming across as a wannabe columnist for a women's magazine, I'm going to make this a series.
We'll call this entry: All the Crap Men Think We Care About but I Don't Because they're Dumb
1. Guys--I don't care what kind of car you drive. Other than an H3--gross, ick, terrible for the environment--or a rather obvious mid-life crisis/penis compensation mobile, like a canary yellow Corvette or something, I don't care. Guys care a lot about their cars--so "they" say--but it's dumb. Whether it's the red '98 Mustang you bought yourself during high school and haven't gotten rid of, a Saturn made out of plastic, or a BMW, it likely won't matter to me. When I started dating Real World Boyfriend #1 (RWBF1), I, for some dumb reason, found it unattractive that he drove a nice, new pickup truck. I think I even said to a friend "I can't date a guy who drives a truck!?!!?" What an idiot I was. (I did date him for 2 good years, and you know what? That truck came in frigging handy when I had to move.)
What does matter? Keep the inside clean, so I don't have to clear off the passenger seat when you pick me up for a date. Be responsible enough to maintain it--oil changes, tire rotations etc.--don't risk running out of gas (ExH did that once, and I nearly killed him), and, most importantly, don't drive like a jerk: use your turn signal; brake for squirrels; let people into your lane; don't speed too much. (Ok, I admit I am guilty of this one...) Are some cars nicer looking than others? Sure. Do some cars have features that make life more comfortable? Um, two words: heated seats. And yes, our society relates "success" with "car," so the guy who picks me up in the 2010 Volvo might, in theory, make more money than the guy who picks me up in the 2001 Civic. Or, that guy might be obsessed with appearances and in debt in order to pay for that Volvo, while the guy in the Civic has a good savings account and retirement fund. Also? If we can't pick up fast food from a window and eat it in your car because we might mess it up? Forget it.
2. With some exceptions, I don't particularly care what you do for a living. I probably wouldn't get along with a hedge fund manager because our worldviews likely differ with regard to other issues, and jobs that involve a ton of travel--gone for most of the week, say--isn't going to be a good way to build a relationship at the start, at least, but if you like your job and work hard, it's probably ok. Doing something I found philosophically reprehensible--defending big tobacco, lobbying for socially conservative organizations, etc.--would be a dealbreaker for the aformentioned worldview problem, and if you were working by choice at something far below your educational background or intelligence level, that would probably signal a lack of ambition or stick-to-itiveness or perhaps apathy or arrogance--none of which is attractive to me.
In this economy, I recognize that many people are under-employed or stuck in a job they hate. As long as you're working to correct it and are trying the best you can to make the best of the situation--that tends to be my disposition--I get it. It matters far more to me how you manage your money than how much you make. Again, I know that people find themselves in fiscal situations that are beyond their immediate control, but financial recklessness, like still living like you make your old salary even though you've taken a significant pay cut, or racking up credit card debt with no concern for the future would probably raise a red flag for me, because I don't want to constantly fight about money or worry that if we had a future, we'd never be financially secure.
Of course, money is also "speech" (or so our Supreme Court believes, anyway), and how you spend your money "speaks" to your values. Begrudging the cost of a few drinks out on a date even though you just bought yourself an iPad2 because you feel compelled to keep up with the latest gadgets--turn off. I don't need gifts or jewelry or for you to whisk me away to 4-star hotels, and I am a firm believer in splitting the cost of dates--going Dutch or rotating or whatever--but if spending a little bit now and then to take me out or spend time with me is going to irritate you and be a source of friction, it will make me feel, pun intended, undervalued, which isn't a good way to start--or continue--a relationship.
3. I don't care in any sort of a priori sort of way what you look like. Sure, I have preferences and I'm not blind, but I have always, always gone for personality over looks. I wouldn't consider any of my exes to be ugly, of course--I wouldn't have dated them if I didn't find them physically attractive, duh--but only one of them, College Boyfriend #3 (CBF3), was, as they say, "hot." Even most of my celebrity crushes are of the slightly-off-kilter good-looking variety; Ryan Gosling aside, the rest are sort of quirky looking, or at least, not "traditionally handsome." Jason Segel? Andy Samberg? Let's be real. I'm not hot, and don't "demand" that the guy on my arm be, either. This could be a result of my own insecurities, I realize--because I'm cute/pretty without being hot and not at all curvy, the super-hot won't like me back, maybe?--but the end result is the same.
I do care about some things. My friends think I'm totally unreasonable, but you, Guy, need to be tall. Quite tall. I say 5'10" is my cut-off, but my actual preference is at least 6 feet. I don't exactly know why this is. I'm pretty small, and I don't wear heels all that often, but...I just want to feel slight and tiny in your arms, and that's much easier done when the guy is taller. I don't need a big body-builder type--ExH was quite slender and all lean muscle--but height matters to me, even if this seems ridiculous, whereas body type does not. Got a few extra pounds? Dress it well, and it hardly matters. Though all but hot CBF3 have been brunettes--do you call boys "brunettes" I wonder?--I'm not opposed to blonds on principle, but I do like shorter, clean cut hair. (Unlike my mother, who has this odd penchant for men with ponytails. Weird.) Facial hair works on some people--indeed, it is better than clean-shaven on some men--but keep it neat and trim. My newest thing is that I really dig glasses, but not in that Weezer, big, black plastic frame sort of way. I tend to like blue or green eyes over brown, though it doesn't actually matter, and melt for straight-teethed, easy-going smiles. (My high school friends used to joke that I would be a dentist someday, because I frequently remarked "oh, he has nice teeth!") Dimples are a swoon-worthy bonus. One dimple? Ohmyword--you might as well peel me off the floor right now. Oh, and fingernails. Untrimmed fingernails on men freak me the hell out. Even a little bit of that "moon" gives me the willies. *Shivers.*
The most important thing, though, is to work your strengths, care enough about what you look like to put in effort in how you present yourself without being an obsessive jackass, stay on top of personal hygiene--moisturizer, gentlemen, moisturizer--and figure out a way to dress. My personal preference is a sort of relaxed preppy/classic outdoorsy casual combo deal, but the guy who can dress with a sense of versatility is probably the sexiest thing in the world. A tshirt, jeans and flip-flops while drinking a beer at a baseball game? A button-up, loosened tie and dress slacks for a date? Be still my beating heart. Be aware of the environment and dress accordingly. And if you don't know, ask for input and take advice.
Oh, and one more thing: boxer briefs. I mean, honestly.
Hilary....Love reading your posts. - Ariel
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