EVOLUTION OF A YOUNG METRO

I admit, I am often baffled by the upsurge in the sheer number of metro-sexual guys over the past few years. In the 1990's, they did not seem to exist. But as grunge gave way to baggy and baggy gave way to low slung, the amount of uber coifed and tidy guys climbed exponentially.

What is behind this? Was it a naturally occuring reaction to years of sloppiness? Is it because of the proliferation of guy products? Is a result of careful mass marketing? Or is it a by-product of America's over-exposure to Ryan Seacrest? This weekend, something occured that made me re-think my ideas of the metro-sexual. Perhaps it's ingrained much earlier in life.

Last Friday, I was visiting with my 23 month old nephew. We were scampering around the house together, laughing and playing. Suddenly, he got a concerned look on his face.

"My pocketbook!" he cried. "Where is my pocketbook?"

"You have a pocketbook?" I laughed.

"Ya." He wasn't laughing, like me.

"What do you keep in your pocketbook?"

"My stuff " he said.

"What stuff ?" I asked.

"My stuff ! My stuff ! I want my stuff !"

"Don't worry, buddy," I said, "We'll find it."

We started looking around for his pocketbook. I figured a the likely place was in the mountain of toys in the toy room. (A mere 20 minutes before the pocketbook search, the toy room was neat and organized. But that was before the toy room was exposed to 2 weapons of mass destruction: toddler bombs)

Finally, I found a duffel bag near the back.

"Is this it, little man?"

"Yes!" he was giddy with excitement as he grabbed for the bag. Then he proceeded to show me all the stuff in his bag. "My baseball. My football. My basketball. My hockey puck. My glove. My hat. Cookie monster."

He carefully placed all of this stuff back in the bag. He slung it over his shoulder, ready to be on his way.

I tugged on the strap of his bag. "What is this again?"

He looked back at me over his shoulder and smiled. "My man-bag."

I suspect there'll be a lot of hair gel in his future!