METROSEXUALS DAVID BECKHAM, SIMON COWELL AND GORDON RAMSAY HAVE GONE TOO FAR

No good will come of hunter gatherers who have been reduced to insisting on clean worktops and bottled water.
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ED Noor: This could be passed off as a fluff piece of journalism. But there is more here than meets the eye whether the author intended it or not. What you are reading here is a very healthy backlash against the blind feminism that has been wreaking havoc in the world for the past century. I won’t bore you with everything you already know about the destruction of society by aiming at the basic foundation block ~ the family ~ by the elite.  

This is Communism 101.

Let us take this one step further and toss in the nerd trend. The nerd in all his or her glory. Some nerds are pretty cool, such as Garcia (woman) on a popular tv show, but what we see on these mainly rather effeminate boys are ill fitting pants, ugly sweaters, horrendous haircuts and even worse glasses. This look has become a trend as well!

All you need to do, dear Reader, is poke in the appropriate words, feminism, homosexuality, communism, in the search engine on the right and a plethora of more serious articles on this topic ~ the utter feminization and demasculation of males ~ will pop up.  Although this article is aimed towards the British male, it can be equally applied to males around the globe in most countries that are overtaken by international Jewry.

 John and Paul before fame

The influence of Beatles is responsible to a great extent. Their manager, Brian Epstein (surprise surprise!) feminized them from rough rockers to pretty boys. He softened their hair, cleaned up their look and put them in matching suits ~ all to sell them to the girls of the time. 

Then came the skirts for men movement, and I am not referring to the manly kilt. Suddenly the ordinary guy was a dandy especially in London ~ the mods and rockers. ~ the Carnaby Street scene. And here we are today, it has gone just a tad too far. 

And we haven't even touched what the gay movement has done in terms of dandifying the male look.Their svelte aestheticism and acceptance by the female population has also pushed many straight males to take that competitive leap by primping more.

This little article speaks of the slow dawning of the author's awareness that something has gone horrendously wrong. We can only pray she eventually makes the connection between this and the weaponization of gender from back in the early 1960's; we can only pray that she is sharp enough and then brave enough to act upon her newly found awareness.

 

Tolerable dandy one day, insufferable sissy the next ~ and women are the losers  She-man: Simon Cowell led the way. Now, even Gordon Ramsay has fallen for Botox They’re petulant as princesses, demanding as despots and know their way around the Clarins counter considerably better than they do any B&Q. Needy and vain, their egos are on a permanent slow puncture and must be re-inflated with flattery and obeisance. 

Welcome to modern men ~ the metrosexual monsters we have created. According to a new survey, a horrifying one in five women claims their partner is so high-maintenance that he spends longer in the bathroom than they do, throws a strop if his text goes unanswered for more than two minutes and refuses to wear unbranded clothes. 

When Diane Abbott MP recently bemoaned the “crisis in masculinity”, I don’t think she meant Him Indoors throwing a hissy fit because the missus borrowed his blemish concealer. She actually had misogynistic brutes in her sights, but believe me, Diane, at the other end of the spectrum, things aren’t much better.

Brad Pitt in Fight Club or Laurence Llewellyn-Bowen? I know which one I’d choose… 

The battle of the sexes is being fought on all fronts, and all I can say is: ladies, I hope we win. Because given this generation of Regency fops who are too prissy to go camping, or even to the corner shop without the judicious application of Garnier Fructis hair gel, I fear for the future of our species. It’s a fact (a fact, I tell you) that metrosexuals tend to be considerably more metro than sexual. 

“Women are getting quite confused about men who appear to be taking their role in relationships,” says men’s personal stylist Daniel Johnson, who takes clients shopping at a cost of £1,000 a day. 

“Five years ago, when I started out in the business, most men didn’t know much about style, they just wanted to look smart. But these days they are getting pickier and pickier. Shopping for shoes with them is a nightmare.” 

With great prescience, London-based Johnson has just written a book entitled What Girls Want Men to Wear. His research threw up some interesting findings.

“There’s a real trend among men to wax their entire bodies, which their women don’t like, as they feel that it is if not actually feminine, then certainly not very masculine. But the reason guys are doing it is because removing hair gives greater muscle definition, so they look leaner and stronger at the gym.”

Alarmingly, it seems the truism that women dress to impress other women has been taken on by men, who are increasingly determined to demonstrate their alpha status with £10,000 Tom Ford suits, as worn by Daniel Craig playing Bond. 
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That’s all very well in the boardroom, but what about the bedroom? Sad to say, any man who cares more about his monthly pedicure than your finely turned ankles is probably going to be a bit of a ~ how can I put it delicately? ~ narcissist between the sheets.

Couples shouldn’t be in competition for eye-lift cream. No good will come of hunter gatherers who have been reduced to insisting on clean worktops and bottled water.

Such a preoccupation with appearances is against nature. (Well, strictly speaking it’s not, as it is the male of most species who goes to great pains to impress the female with displays of his flouncy lyre bird plumage, his bulging frog’s vocal sac or indeed his blue monkey buttocks.)

But men ~ and specifically but not exclusively British men ~ need to put their proverbial monkey blue buttocks back into their trousers and stop checking their reflections in the kettle.

Why? 

Because their sissification has gone too far. 

There’s a crucial difference between the manly grooming of George Clooney ~ crisp white shirt, stubble rash on every woman he touches ~ and the unmanly titivation of Shane Warne, whose transformation from Crocodile Dundee to Domesticated Dandy in the hands of Liz Hurley must surely be in contravention of some sort of human right. 
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David Beckham is metrosexuality personified, but when the likes of Gordon Ramsay, a chap with a face craggier than the Grand Canyon, admits to Botox à la Simon Cowell, it’s a wonder he’s still got the testosterone to poach an egg. 

There’s something very disturbing about going out with a chap who is prettier than you are. I’ve done it, sisters, and predictably, it did not end well. 

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My firm-pectoralled Bad Buddhist (a sobriquet I coined in the aftermath) was toned and tanned, which was marvellous. He practised Pilates. Fine by me. He moisturized. Hey, I could live with that. He meditated and exfoliated. Hmm, not sure where this was going. His mother plucked his mono-brow for him. 

Ah, we’d arrived at Weirdsville. 

As a couple, we drew admiring glances, but before very long I realized that being the dowdy peahen peeping out from behind my shimmering show-stopper mate really wasn’t me. 
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I’d love to say I dumped him, but in truth, he moved house ~ in fact he moved city ~ while I was still dozing in his rumpled sheets. 
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Yes, at 6am one morning my pulchritudinous, preening peacock tenderly kissed me on the forehead, asked me to “post the keys back through the door” when I left and took flight, carefully omitting to leave a forwarding address. I’m not sure if he was in search of someone plainer or more beautiful than me, but either way, I hope his feathers fell out. 

I know I’m not alone in thinking that it’s time the blokes of Britain manned up. 

Take my husband ~ no actually, please don’t, because he’s the ultimate low-maintenance spouse. Imagine a fellow who has been pleasingly returned to his factory settings: he washes, he shaves, and he dresses. Job done. Analogue and proud of it. 

James Bond and Usher wearing $1000 Tom Ford suits

I’m not sure if it’s because he’s Scottish, or whether his gusty Yorkshire boarding school should get the credit, but he really is under the enduring impression that women are exotic, quixotic creatures whose skincare regimes are unfathomable, secret processes and definitely not Man’s Business. 

He likes a natty shirt, but doesn’t know his Asos from his J Crew, wouldn’t dream of paying £17 for a pair of Paul Smith socks and couldn’t identify cellulite in a police line-up, bless him. And that suits me fine. 

He’s the guy with the Black & Decker, I’m the girl with the eyelash curler and that’s just as it should be. 

Frankly, I couldn’t care about lipstick on his collar. But the day he comes home with a shea butter lip balm in his pocket is the day I move out.