Don Jawan is undeniably young and definitely single besides being what you might call a 'metrosexual'.
Beginning this week, he will give us a fortnightly dose of exclusively male perspective. What do men really want? See if he can help with the answer.
Several summers ago, I used to measure the best part of my evenings, mornings, afternoons shuffling Barista spoons while engaged in Scrabble with an absolutely gorgeous woman. Helpless about naming the aforementioned stunner, I'm forced to despairingly refer to her as Ex, or X, however you'd spell it.
Now, as my envious male friends would testify, calling X pretty would be an unforgivable understatement. Yet, she had some rather unconventional features that could mistakenly be assumed as physical setbacks.
Sigh! How tragically we choose to limit our aesthetics.
To start with, there were the braces. While arguably too old to be metal-mouthed, X had been struck with the pizza-unfriendly situation late in life, and was thus orally impaired when we first met. And what a glorious handicap this turned out to be.
First things first, they gave her already superb features a peculiarly compelling dash of character. I see her now, still breathtaking, but the braces... Ooh, I miss those. Her mouth would protrude forward ever so slightly with the hint of a perpetual pout. Dazzling. Every face needs a touch of weird to make it special, and this was hers.
Plus -- and here's the clincher -- have you ever kissed someone with braces on? No, not a gangly middle-school peck, but a real kiss? It's incredible. If both parties are proficient in the art of the lip-lock, the serrated edge feels unbelievable. Coldly stimulating and .
Now that I've stopped slathering helplessly, it's time to get on to that other aspect of womanhood we love: the glasses. Yes, geekism has never been more in, and really, every thinking man in the world digs a pair of sexy spectacles. X never understood this, infuriatingly whipping her frames off as soon as the credits rolled, confining me to having to gaze fondly at her in the dark, Nicolas Cage reflecting surreally off her glasses. Sigh.
What women don't understand is that spectacles rock. Despite it being the world's biggest misconception, a pair of glasses instantly bestow intellect, depth, and even -- at best -- geek status onto the wearer. These are things we really dig, wanting to have a conversation with a woman at least potentially able to understand our passion for PS2.
I once knew this rather groovy girl who used to model for a leading women's magazine. Perhaps my point would be illustrated further if I'd casually mention the fact that she'd done some lingerie adverts. Half-dozen friends and I all lavished our undivided attention, but this wasn't because of her super-poised, definitely desirable covers and centerfolds. Well, okay, initially it was.
But it took something rather interesting to convert mere drool into actual, riveted adulation. Madame Y, if I may, would go on model calls and auditions all day, but the nights would actually be the fun bits. Minds out of the gutter, you pervs, stop assuming the painfully obvious. Sundown after sundown, she'd come home, peel off the layers of make-up and accessories, and pull on an irresistible pair of glasses as she settled into a baggy sweatshirt.
The glasses came on, and she was reborn, complete with blue-screen glare, as Y: übergeek! As she'd chat on simultaneous windows and her fingers would rapidly multitask between hacks, blogs, and bits of java-script code she seemed to constantly be tweaking, we'd watch, marvelling.
We were intimidated, sure, but this was undeniably brilliant. This was a metamorphosis into a comic-book superheroine. And all men purr for Catwoman.
Illustrations: Dominic Xavier
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