Lumbersexual. Someone actually called me a lumbersexual today. I mean this is not the first time I have heard of the term. For the uninitiated, being a lumbersexual means that you look like a lumberjack. That usually means growing a beard and looking a bit outdoorsy. I looked at myself and there I was, sporting a full beard, a plaid shirt, some bootcut jeans and brogues. I have not had a decent haircut in months and pretty soon I could probably tie it up in a decent manbun come February. I’m also on the blocky side and by that I mean that I look like I could take on a bear. Scratch that, I actually look like a bear, a veritable grizzly. It does not help that I am at least one eight Spanish and my prominent meztiso features are just adding to the overall effect.
Okay, this was not entirely by accident. I did choose what I was going to wear and if there was something my three sisters have taught me, you have to wear thematically sound and stylistically attuned clothes. Growing up, my sisters would kill me if they saw me wearing something that broke the rules, ie I once wore suspenders with a belt and apparently that is heresy in men’s clothing.
The thing is, I did not set out for me to look this way. It just sort of happened. Maybe it is an outgrowth of a changing of personas. Last year, I had a very corporate cosmopolitan look – ties (in solid colors), slacks, long sleeved shirts. I was clean shaven and had P300 haircuts (at this point I feel many would say I am a tad bit narcissistic but hey, we all have our little vanities). I had to look like I could kill in the boardroom. I was also pretty extroverted. I could talk to anybody and everybody. I had the corporate hand shake down pat (firm, not to hard but definitely conveying some sort of power).
Yet now, I am slowly becoming more introverted. I am withdrawing into a shell of my own and I am disengaging from the outside world. I think that is what is prompting the change in what I wear. It is as if my mind is registering the sudden shift in the personalities I had and it is manifesting itself in my clothes. You see, what I am wearing right is a stereotype in my head of what writer’s look like – introverted types who hie off to the woods and write to their hearts content.
I do not know though, maybe I am just over analyzing myself. Or maybe someone said that I looked cute as a lumbersexual. Shrug.
Anyway, I’m off to look for an axe. Do not ask me why, I just feel like it. And maybe a pipe.