A Post Where I Talk About My Weird Turn-ons. (Do I need a better title than that?)

So the Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show aired on cable this week. I did not watch it. Mostly because I’d already gotten all of the key points from Jezebel.com. Because that’s where I go for most of my news. And rightly so. They’re funny, feminist, and they, too, find it creepy when Justin Bieber talks about how his fans named his member George. Or something like that. It was too creepy to remember.
I know that Carter did not actively watch it live, though whether or not he checked the “highlight reel” later, I have no idea. And I don’t really care if he did. He’s a man, and I’m ok with the fact that some men like to look at pretty half-naked women with large boobs. I know for a fact that Adriana “I’m saving my molten-hot virginity for marriage” Lima is not one of the 3 on his celebrity “free pass” list.

When last I checked, the third member of his Celebrity Free Pass list was contingent upon the invention of a time machine: Helen Hunt circa the 1990’s and the Mad About You days. I won’t judge him for that. The other two, as best I can figure are Natalie Dormer of The Tudors and Game of Thrones
and Rachel McAdams as long as she’s a brunette a la Wedding Crashers
What can I say – he’s fussy. 
What I can say about this is that I married a man who has a thing for women who are stunning but in an attainable, normal person way. Which is, in itself, a compliment to me. (I can believe him when he tells me he thinks I’m beautiful, not because I think I am, but because as he tells me that, I know he’s not fantasizing about some leggy, fierce, impossibly-exotic-looking thing that is dressed as a “Sexy Cherokee Princess” and cat-walking with her hoohoo almost hanging out. Not that they aren’t beautiful, those VS models, because they are. Gorgeous. But they’re like giraffes at the zoo. Nobody’s gonna take home a giraffe when there’s a perfectly loveable Labradoodle up for grabs. Why? Because they’re freakishly tall, high-maintenance, and will constantly fill you with quiet dread when you try to walk them for fear that they will mistake your neighbor’s teenage daughter with the green hair for a mid-exercise snack.)

So, as far as I know, neither of us watched the Victoria’s Secret Fashion show. Because we were busy catching up on Raising Hope and shame-eating spaghetti. It’s a classy life we lead, my friends.

But the fashion show does bring up some interesting idiosyncrasies in my marriage and, I would assume most heterosexual relationships. Carter likes to buy me pretty things from the Victoria’s Secret catalogue.  I assume this is an enjoyable activity for most men to engage in. Because that’s what he likes to look at and so he assumes that if the woman he is married to is wearing the same little get-up as Adriana Lima that it will be double bonus for him. Awesome. Clearly, it does not take much to get his engine running.

I, on the other hand, have found no “pretty thing” equivalent for men that does not really creep me out. If Carter ever decided to sport a man-thong  to try to “get me into the boudoir,” I would absolutely leave the apartment and head for the bar in my backyard, where I would drink all the things. (Note: drinking all the things is a lot like pinning all the things, only a little more destructive and you don’t get festive ideas for building a nativity scene out of balloon animals and glitter. Win/lose, I guess.) Not that he would ever decide to do this. He absolutely wouldn’t. It would be grounds for a swift divorce if I ever suggested it. Which I absolutely wouldn’t. Because they weird me out.

It’s like the one time I went to a Chippendale in Vegas and was all, “Well, you are very muscular, but that satin-covered elastic you’re sporting looks horribly uncomfortable and unsupportive.” Yea. It was totally worth my $40 cover to blush like an idiot and hide behind a drink menu when one of them jumped on our table and began shaking hands with us, sticking his rear in the faces of the people opposite, and saying, “G’Day, Sheilas.” It was Thunder from Down Under. Google them. 

[5 minutes of Googling later…..]
Ok….so maybe it was worth my $40.

But no, the banana hammocks don’t do it for me. Neither do the satin boxers or pajama pants. And don’t even get me started on how weirded out I was when a man in Florence tried to sell me tiny briefs with a screen-print of Michelangelo’s David’s manbits over where an actual man’s bits would be and the Italian flag on the ass. Omar never taught me to say, “Oh how lovely, but one peeper is more than enough for me to handle. I don’t need to screenprint another on top of it. But thank you very much!” in Italian. 

You wanna know what gets me?

It is, sweater weather, baby. And I’m gonna wear this sweater while I go scrape the ice off of your windshield and turn your seat warmer on so that your sweet ass will be warm on your way to work. Oh yea. 
And this:
Welcome home, baby. Yea, I just shoveled the sidewalk to our house that I built with my own two hands. And when you go inside, try not to be overwhelmed by the sweet aroma of mac and cheese in the oven. You go and take a hot shower and I’ll meet you with a bourbon. We can talk about your day while I rub your feet with my big, strong man-hands. 


Oh, yea. And don’t even get me started on a man in a thermal down vest.

I made the mistake of telling Carter about this little obsession I have. And so Carter, formerly known as Captain Sweatpants, has not only been wearing jeans, but has also procured flannel shirts, “hot, rustic sweaters,” a thermal vest, and a pair of Clark’s Wallabies. 

I half expect someday, to come home from work and find Carter standing in the middle of the apartment, fully clothed, wearing shoes and a thermal vest saying, “Hey babe. Look at how good I look. Don’t you just get hot and bothered when you see people look as good as me?”

And he won’t be wrong. Am I alone in my attraction to the flannel/vest/mountain man thing?

Yea, that’s right I am gonna row you across this lake. And I’m gonna catch you some trout for dinner, which I’m gonna roast over an open campfire while you snuggle in these blankets I brought because I know that you’re always cold and that’s ok. I don’t mind at all. I’ll be warm for both of us, baby. 
…..ok, so I’m beginning to think that maybe this isn’t an idiosyncrasy experienced by most heterosexual couples. Maybe it is just me.  

This probably means that my Celebrity Free Pass list is not at all surprising to anyone. 
1. Joe Mangianello.
2. Jason Momoa. But only if he’s dressed as Khal Drogo and talking to me in Dothraki. (Can I get a what-what from all the other nerd girls out there?)

I can count. I’m just still waiting for someone worthy of my third freebie. But this season of Game of Thrones looks promising. 
(Note: My blog-friend-and-maybe-real-life-friend, Loki-Lou over at the Modfather, is doing a Hot People Advent Calendar on her blog this month. Definitely worth checking out. As is her entire blog. Not just the hot people.) 
But on the off-chance that I’m not alone here, I could probably make myself and L.L.Bean Signature a lot of money by broadcasting the L.L.Bean Fashion Show the night after the VS fashion show. Picture it, ruggedly handsome men wearing flannel and walking Labradors down the runway, looking really capable. Maybe there will even be a talent portion where they make scrambled eggs, play fetch with the puppies, and build a log cabin, all while being ridiculously good looking.

I would definitely tune in for that. And so would Lola. Because we all know that slut-puppy’s got a thing for chocolate labs.

It’s almost Friday, y’all! 

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  1. Flannel and dark jeans and white t-shirts and a man chopping wood.
    OH MY WORD ….

    Need I say more?

  2. Kate, your blog is keeping me sane during finals week. I’m not sure what that says about either of us. As long as you keep writing and my friends keep posting pictures of corgis on my wall, I just might make it. I love this blog!

  3. YEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!! Jason Momoa as Khal Drogo, speaking in Dothraki! I SO enjoyed that, I died when he died! No more Drogo…

    As for the flanel shirts, I feel ya. I’ve actually managed to get my boyfriend to wear AND like them. He now handpicks them without my help. I am so proud! *Wipes away tear from corner of eye*

    • I cried for a week when he died. And then when they teased us last season? Dear God, it was a bad day in our apartment. I LOVE Drogo.

      And you should be proud! Carter is slowly learning to navigate clothing that is not sweatpants. I like!

  4. :-O

    *little drool* – ahme, sorry about that (pulls shi together!)

    The men in flannel is a definite winner, I think it is the capable man thing. Isn’t that what we all want? The man that can look after us, who can go chop wood to keep us warm and look sexy doing it!

    The other half is so cute, he says Kate Winslet (ala Holy Smoke) is the only one that could ever come close to me (I don’t see what he see but hey!)

    Oh and Joe is probably the closest to Dan I have seen, not quite right but close!!

  5. I love a good-looking guy in a great sweater! Man hammocks don’t do it for me either. Although if Channing Tatum came at me with one, I would use that celebrity pass…

  6. i have already confessed to my odd passion for willie from swamp people. i also like the smell of sawdust.

  7. My husband in a pair of tattered, ripped, faded as all fuck jeans and bare feet stood in the kitchen making me a cup of tea. There is no sight sexier. No matter how gorgeously he’s dressed for an evening out or in a suit for work, I always love him best like that.

  8. Victoria’s Secret is cause for MUCH heckling in my house, usuallt ending with a comment like, “Bet you didn’t know Angels were SLUTS!” Then we fall over laughing like idiots. Until the day the use REAL women modeling comfortable clothes, like men’s jammie pants and baggy T-shirts, they are persona non grata in my house. *grin*
    And I must be WAY to married, or just pathetic since I couldn’t come up with anyone but the middle-aged, spare-tire wearing hubby to put on a list. (Just wait, it’ll happen. LOL!)

    • Haha, oh Chris and Chris’s family! 🙂 Carter read me a joke that said that “plus-size” models should just be called models and that VS models should be called “plus-minus” models. *ba-dun-ch*

      I can send you a list of potential celebrity freebies, if you’re interested. To get your feet wet, I suggest you start with Joe Mangianello. Or Ryan Gosling. Or Gerard Butler.

      Ok. I think I need to calm down.

  9. LL Bean men make me swoon. I would be first online for such a show. I ahve been up to Freeport Maine to see the store and buy clothes for my latet hubby.
    Heck, I am having a blast checking out the calendar. What a pic you chose! It made my day to see my selection a few days ago…

  10. There are so many things I want to say about this post. I will leave it with 2: I would totally watch the LL Bean fashion show and I would leave my husband for (the night for) Kal Drogan.

    • I’m getting enough feedback that I think I need to propose this idea to someone. Yum. And Kahl Drogo is God’s gift to women. Period. If you haven’t watched Season 1 of Games of Thrones, you should. He is magnificent.

  11. Wait….there was writing in this post? I assumed there was just hot men…hang on while I remove the drool then try to focus on the words.

    Right…I think everyone already knows my taste in men, they’re tall, slender, generally with fluffy hair and quite geeky. Hence my new obsession with Ben Whishaw as Q (he is drool worthy!)

    Btw – we are real-life friends! 😀

    • I’m so glad! 🙂 And there was just a little bit of writing, but it clearly was not the focal point of the post, haha. Nor was it meant to be!

      I’m going to have to do some more googling of Mr. Whishaw. Geeky men are super hot, too, though. Even better? Geeky men who wear flannel and chop wood, haha.

  12. Funny that you should equivocate VS models to Giraffes! I did the same with my post yesterday, but mine were sick baby giraffes. Does everyone come to these conclusions? Ha!

    Ryan Gosling is my man candy. (And one of my free passes) I like more rugged men too. Just not too mountain man..beard=good, rumpelstiltskin beard=yuck. Ha!

    • They remind me of giraffes – what can I say? I’m glad I’m not the only one that makes that comparison!

      Ryan Gosling is gorgeous. And I agree with your distinction. Runpelstiltskin is a hard limit in almost every man-category.

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