Posted on: Sunday, November 30, 2003
FAMILY MATTERS
Real men don't use facial products or say 'decorative accents'
By Ka'ohua Lucas
"How does this look?" my husband said as he posed, one hand on his hip, the other extended.
"Lovely!" I exclaimed.
The red hibiscus aloha shirt was pulled snugly around his 'opu, unable to conceal a patch of freckled skin. He was missing a belt loop from his favorite pair of polyester Levi Action Slacks.
His hair was slicked back, but the cowlick on the crown of his head stood at attention like an infantryman.
"My, you look quite dashing!" I remarked.
"I do, don't I?" he said, surveying himself in the mirror as he stroked his chin.
Early Hawaiians were fastidious about their personal grooming habits. They would go to great lengths to ensure that their appearance was neat and clean.
Hawaiian scholar and language expert Mary Kawena Pukui recalled how adults in her 'ohana cared for their teeth.
"When I was a child, I used to see my relatives sitting by sea pools, rubbing charcoal on the teeth, or applying wood ashes with a moistened finger," Pukui writes. "How vigorously they scrubbed!"
Although my husband takes great pride in spiffing up for work, he would prefer padding around in a pair of stained shorts and puka T-shirt.
The latest trend to hit the big cities is a term called the metrosexual male. It's sort of a catch-all phrase for straight, urban men who like embracing activities usually associated with women, such as shopping, pedicures and perfecting a recipe for crème brulée. I thought it would be interesting to see where my husband ranked on the metrosexual scale, so I asked him a series of questions intended to determine his level of metrosexuality. He could not fathom why pillows that adorn our living-room pune'e, or day bed, should be referred to as "decorative accents."
"Every red-blooded American male calls them pillows," he snarled.
No points scored there.
So I asked him if he would ever consider applying moisturizer to his face.
He replied curtly, "No, because there is a moisture strip on my razor."
"By the way, Lovey, how much does it cost to cut your hair?" I asked.
To be considered a metrosexual male, a salon-styled cut should exceed $60.
"Tell your readers I spend 12 bucks, including tip!" he snapped. "The closest I will ever get to being a metrosexual male is that I use underarm deodorant!"
Not everyone aspires to becoming a metrosexual male. Certainly my husband doesn't. He failed miserably on the quiz.
He believes a man is defined not by fashions and gadgets but by depth and substance — honesty, integrity and compassion.
I find the Early American Polyester look all too appealing. In fact, I would be a bit concerned if my husband chose to shop for facial products over watching a good old-fashioned game of football on television.
Reach Ka'ohua Lucas at Family Matters, 'Ohana section, The Advertiser, P.O. Box 3110, Honolulu, HI 96802; fax 525-8055; or at ohana@honoluluadvertiser.com.
