Women and Opinion

This is an ongoing issue with me and Karen.  Karen is a highly cultured, artistic, thoughtful woman.  I'm a slug by comparison.  Where she sees beauty in the arrangement of a table setting, with the food immaculately prepared and presented, I see a meal.  The finer aspects of most things are lost on me.  I could blame it on my crooked chromosome, as Karen calls it, but how does that explain gays and metrosexuals,  most of whom have an abiding interest in and skill for decorating and fashion?

The issue gets us in some tangles, not that I don't try to avoid them.  When we're going out, Karen will look at something I put on and tell me I can't leave the house dressed like that, that I have to change or she won't be seen with me in public.  For the unaware, we're not talking plaids and paisleys mixed together.  We're talking about otherwise complimentary colors that might be a shade off, or colors that Karen says don't mix, or wrinkled clothing that don't pass her aesthetics test.  It's to the point that if I know we're going out, I just ask her to pick out the shirt that she deems will match the pants I've chosen -- assuming, of course, the pants are acceptable to her in the first place.

I mention this because I've noticed an odd twist in this dynamic.  The other day we were doing the Black Friday shopping thing and Karen was looking for bargains.  I have a general idea what she likes -- good-looking clothes as she defines them, whatever that is -- but otherwise, it's best for me to keep my gob shut because I really have no clue what looks good.  That's not entirely true:  I know if something is hideous, or I think I do.  But if she likes it, I'm fine with it.  Karen's a beautiful woman and the clothes are just an enhancement of her beauty.

Still and all, for the life of me, I don't know why she asks me whether a particular garment is good-looking or not.  I appreciate that she includes me in her choices, but in the end, given that she has to pick out shirts for me, am I the best choice for a fashion opinion when it comes to women's clothing?  I mean, I can't dress myself -- apparently -- and I'm a guy.  Asking me whether a particular dress or skirt is cute -- more on that anon -- is like asking a blind person to read a road map.  But every time we're in a store together, she asks me for my opinion.  Almost invariably I tell her it's fine.  What else am I supposed to say?

Ah, but there is a fallback answer.  I have to attribute this to my estranged brother who once noted, insightfully, that for women, the universal adjective for anything they think is attractive is cute.  If a hat looks good, it's cute.  If a puppy is adorable, it's cute.  If there's a tender moment between a returning serviceman and his children, it's cute.  Cars are cute.  Houses can be cute.  Hotel rooms can be cute.  Heck, sports plays can be cute in women's vernacular.  Dresses, gloves, skirts, blouses, hats, jackets, coats, tights, shoes, jewelry and any combination thereof can best be described as cute when they meet with the approbation of the wearer.  The application of cute knows no bounds.  Karen also likes to declare eyewear cute, haircuts cute and ties cute.  And here I thought that only babies were cute....

Far be it from me to criticize use of the word cute when it comes to describing a $900 pair of Manolo Blahniks or Jimmy Choos, but apparently that's perfectly acceptable.

For men, to describe a pair of $250 Air Jordans as cute would be...well...weird, and I'm using the PG term. No straight man in his right mind would describe shoes as cute.  If he did, he wouldn't be thought of as straight anymore.  

I think using cute in this context would be acceptable, however, since (a) it's part of the language that Karen herself uses and understands, (b) it's for women's clothing and (c) if any guys nearby hear it, the unwritten Man Code says that we have to be keep this to ourselves and not rat each other out.  We are, after all, in the women's clothing section when it happens.

Frankly, I'm less at risk getting maxi-pads for Custer's diaper than I am giving my opinion on Karen's clothing purchases because there's little chance I can go wrong buying the maxi-pads.  Besides, Custer hates that he has to wear the diaper regardless, so it doesn't matter what I get him.

So while I appreciate Karen's asking me my opinion on her wardrobe, I think we both understand that she's merely being nice.  She doesn't really want my opinion, nor does she need it. She's intelligent and beautiful and has a much firmer grasp on what looks good than I ever could.  

But still, it's cute that she asks.

(c) 2013 The Truxton Spangler Chronicles