ey York Times 22 June 2003
By Warren St. John
By his own admission, 30yearold Karru Martinson is not what you'd
call a manly man. He uses a $40 face cream, wears Bruno Magli shoes
and customtailored shirts. His hair is always just so, thanks to
three brands of shampoo and the precise application of three hair
grooming products: Textureline Smoothing Serum, got2b styling glue and
Suave Rave hairspray.
Mr. Martinson likes wine bars and enjoys shopping with his gal pals,
who have come to trust his eye for color, his knack for seeing when a
bag clashes with an outfit, and his understanding of why some women
have 47 pairs of black shoes. ("Because they can!" he said.) He said
his guy friends have long thought his consumer and grooming habits a
little . . . different. But Mr. Martinson, who lives in Manhattan and
works in finance, said he's not that different.
"From a personal perspective there was never any doubt what my sexual
orientation was," he said. "I'm straight as an arrow."
So it was with a mixture of relief and mild embarrassment that Mr.
Martinson was recently asked by a friend in marketing to be part of a
focus group of "metrosexuals" — straight urban men willing, even
eager, to embrace their feminine sides.
Convinced that these openminded young men hold the secrets of
tomorrow's consumer trends, the advertising giant Euro RSCG, with 233
offices worldwide, wanted to better understand their buying habits. So
in a private room at the Manhattan restaurant Eleven Madison Park
recently, Mr. Martinson answered the marketers' questions and
schmoozed with 11 likeminded straight guys who were into Diesel
jeans, interior design, yoga and Mini Coopers, and who would never
think of ordering a vodka tonic without specifying Grey Goose or Ketel
One.
Before the focus group met, Mr. Martinson said he was suspicious that
such a thing as a metrosexual existed. Afterward, he said, "I'm fully
aware that I have those characteristics."
America may be on the verge of a metrosexual moment. On July 15, Bravo
will present a makeover show, "Queer Eye for the Straight Guy," in
which a team of five gay men "transform a styledeficient and
culturedeprived straight man from drab to fab," according to the
network. Condé Nast is developing a shopping magazine for men, modeled
after Lucky, its successful women's magazine, which is largely a
textfree catalog of clothes and shoes.
There is no end to the curious new vanity products for young men, from
a Maximmagazinebranded hair coloring system to Axe, Unilever's
allover body deodorant for guys. And men are going in for
selfimprovement strategies traditionally associated with women. For
example, the number of plastic surgery procedures on men in the United
States has increased threefold since 1997, to 807,000, according to
the American Society for Aesthetic Plastic Surgery.
"Their heightened sense of aesthetics is very, very pronounced,"
Marian Salzman, chief strategy officer at Euro RSCG, who organized the
gathering at Eleven Madison Park, said of metrosexuals. "They're the
style makers. It doesn't mean your average Joe American is going to
copy everything they do," she added. "But unless you study these guys
you don't know where Joe American is heading."
Paradoxically, the term metrosexual, which is now being embraced by
marketers, was coined in the mid90's to mock everything marketers
stand for. The gay writer Mark Simpson used the word to satirize what
he saw as consumerism's toll on traditional masculinity. Men didn't go
to shopping malls, buy glossy magazines or load up on grooming
products, Mr. Simpson argued, so consumer culture promoted the idea of
a sensitive guy — who went to malls, bought magazines and spent freely
to improve his personal appearance.
Within a few years, the term was picked up by British advertisers and
newspapers. In 2001, Britain's Channel Four brought out a show about
sensitive guys called "Metrosexuality." And in recent years the
European media found a metrosexual icon in David Beckham, the English
soccer star, who paints his fingernails, braids his hair and poses for
gay magazines, all while maintaining a manly profile on the pitch.
Along with terms like "PoMosexual," `just gay enough" and "flaming
heterosexuals," the word metrosexual is now gaining currency among
American marketers who are fumbling for a term to describe this new
type of feminized man.
America has a long tradition of sensitive guys. Alan Alda, John
Lennon, even Al Gore all heard the arguments of the feminist movement
and empathized. Likewise, there's a history of dashing men like Cary
Grant and Humphrey Bogart who managed to affect a personal style with
plenty of hair goop but without compromising their virility. Even
Harrison Ford, whose favorite accessory was once a hammer, now poses
proudly wearing an earring.
The soccer star David Beckham, with his wife, Victoria, is a
metrosexual icon.
But what separates the modernday metrosexual from his touchyfeely
forebears is a carefree attitude toward the inevitable suspicion that
a man who dresses well, has good manners, understands thread counts or
has opinions on women's fashion is gay.
"If someone's going to judge me on what kind of moisturizer I have on
my shelf, whatever," said Marc d'Avignon, 28, a graduate student
living in the East Village, who describes himself as "horrendously
addicted to Diesel jeans" and living amid a chemistry lab's worth of
Kiehl's lotions.
"It doesn't bother me at all. Call it homosexual, feminine, hip, not
hip — I don't care. I like drawing from all sorts of sources to create
my own persona."
While some metrosexuals may simply be indulging in pursuits they had
avoided for fear of being suspected as gay — like getting a pedicure
or wearing brighter colors — others consciously appropriate tropes of
gay culture the way white suburban teenagers have long cribbed from
hiphop culture, as a way of distinguishing themselves from the pack.
Having others question their sexuality is all part of the game.
"Wanting them to wonder and having them wonder is a wonderful thing,"
said Daniel Peres, the editor in chief of Details, a kind of
metrosexual bible. "It gives you an air of mystery: could he be? It
makes you stand out."
Standing out requires staying on top of which products are hip and
which are not. Marketers refer to such styleobsessed shoppers as
prosumers, or urban influentials — educated customers who are picky or
just vain enough to spend more money or to make an extra effort in
pursuit of their personal look. A man who wants to buy Clinique for
Men, for example, has to want the stuff so badly that he will walk up
to the women's cosmetics counter in a department store, where Clinique
for Men is sold. A man who wants Diesel jeans has to be willing to pay
$135 a pair. A man who insists on Grey Goose has to