12 September 2011

on manrepelling

For those of you unfamiliar, please go here so that the rest of this post makes sense to you. Or not. I’m a writer, not the police.

As a quick recap, I am in Stockholm. Stockholm is fantastic: the food is yummy, the buildings are gorgeous, the language is entertaining. But my favorite thing about Stockholm so far is the people. Not only are they gorgeous, but they dress incredibly well.

Which brings me back to man repelling. As a young woman, I recognize that now is the prime of my life, at least, in terms of looks. I also understand the importance of utilizing what I have to my advantage. Even though I get it on an intellectual level, I am driven towards dressing like a crazy person. On a regular day, it is safe to assume that fifty percent of whatever I am wearing is intended for men, and the rest are usually made for someone outside side of my age demographic (from toddler to old lady; I tend to swing to the extremes).

After stumbling upon the Man Repeller, I realized that I may or may not have found a kindred spirit. Someone who dresses to make herself happy, and does not necessarily adhere to normal standards of beauty. In fact, she often puts ensembles together just to see what happens.

This is how I get all the men.

While I appreciate her efforts, I have to wonder about the legitimacy of manrepelling. Even though she prides herself on her sartorial freedom, she still (for the most part) looks nice. At least, the individual pieces are nice. Other times, however, I feel like she puts in serious effort to look as ludicrous as possible, just for the sake of looking ludicrous. Those posts are entertaining, but I find them less genuine, and therefore not in the spirit of dressing to make oneself happy.

Thinking about manrepelling reminds me of what elementary school teachers used to tell me: “Just be yourself and people will like you. You’ll make friends eventually.”

The thing is, a saying like that is way too idealistic. Growing up, I’ve learned that people lie all the time. Call me a cynic, but being yourself doesn’t mean that people will like you. Your self might be crazy.

By being a manrepeller, I get to express myself and know that I am happy and comfortable in my skin. However, it also means that I will not be attracting any males any time soon. Should I just give in? Sacrifice a little bit of individuality so that I may be happier later on?

Judging by the fact that I am sitting in my apartment wearing mens boxer briefs and a shirt whose name is White Tiger Stalk, I don’t think that that sort of sacrifice is going to happen any time soon.

I suppose I’ll just have to wait for someone to actually like me for me. Lucky me. And lucky him.


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