Metrosexuals

A conversation about commodities yesterday deviated somewhat in to a discussion of metrosexuals. I must confess that I was ignorant of the term. So when it was explained that a metrosexual is someone who is not gay, or not necessarily gay, but who is in touch with his feminine side, I thought: "that's for me." I have bags of empathy and enjoy the company of women.

Now I'm not so sure; about the metrosexual tag, that is. At the time I was wearing a pink shirt which apparently ticked a box. Another useful accessory, I was told, is a "man bag". I sort of have one of those but don't use it much. In fact I've never used it. It's a woolly, ethnic thing I bought in India or possibly Africa, or was it Leeds? No matter.

I mentioned it to my eldest son, John, 22, this afternoon. It's more than a man bag, he says. Metrosexuals are big in to moisturisers and spend quite a lot on cosmetics. "You know how women take a long time to get ready before they go out? Well metrosexual blokes do that," he says.

One of his friends waxes himself, says John. There is also a vogue, it seems, for men trimming their pubic hair. "Some girls really like it. We had a lot of discussions at university about that."

So it's a little bit more than washing under your armpits and splashing on a bit of aftershave, then? "Some blokes shave their armpits," he says. What? Armpits? Shave? I feel like Peter Kay's grandad when he first heard of cheesecake: "Cheese? Cake? Cheese and cake?

I don't suppose it's so long ago that my own grandad would have been scrubbing up in a tin bath sitting on a clippy hearth rug. What goes around comes around.