Romance by design

Ebony, Oct, 1995 by Laura B. Randolph

Not too long ago, my friend Sharon met an interesting man at a popular Sunday brunch. He was handsome (caramel-colored skin, slow-dance eyes, a cocky grin). He was smart (a government executive by day, a first-year grad student by night). He was single (no girlfriend, no kids, no kidding).

They flirted shamelessly in the omelette line. He told her she reminded him of Vanessa Williams and laughed at her jokes. Sharon's heart did little somersaults when, a few minutes later, he left his buddies, walked over to our table and politely asked if he could call her sometime. Just as she was about to give him her number, both of us saw it: The Tatoo From Hell. it was on his left arm and--I swear this is true--it said: "Damn, I'm Good." Sharon couldn't believe her eye s. Neither could I. In the omelette line, the guy had seemed so, well, wonderful. Sharon mumbled some lame-sounding story about an out-of-town boyfriend, then ordered a Bloody Mary. Hold the tomato juice. I knew just how she felt.

Most women do. Every sister I know can tell you a horror story like Sharon's--something about a man's clothes or jewelry or general appearance that made her run the other way.

This is not as shallow as it sounds, something I often find myself struggling to explain to my male friends, all of whom find this fact of life not only superficial, but cruel. As a very old, very wise Black woman once told me, what a man wears, how he appears, can tell you a lot. His appearance is like a billboard proclaiming to all the world just who he is, or at least who he wants to be. It's up to you to learn how to read the sign.

She wasn't talking about the occasional, if ghastly, fashion faux pas: high-water pants, sandals worn with socks, anything in stretch-knit polyester leap to mind. (Let me stop here, lest I be accused of being a clothing snob, to say that I am the last person to pass judgment on anyone's fashion sense. Like a lot of women of my generation, I was a girl who spent time wearing platform shoes, popcorn shirts and crush-velvet hot pants.) We all know that bad clothes sometimes happen to good people.

More importantly, I also know that just because a guy is --how can I put this gently?--"clothing challenged"--doesn't mean he isn't worth a second look. With the exception of a few social climbing high brows, women understand that clothes don't necessarily make the man. What a guy wears isn't the sum total of who he is.

What we're talking about here is not the Steve Urkels of the world. We're talking about something else entirely, something that has nothing to do with the inability to choose a good tie or coordinate colors. We're talking about the messages a man's appearance can transmit. More than a mere fashion statement, it can be a declaration of just what lurks beneath the superficial cover-up. The good, the bad, the ugly.

A man who has "Damn, I'm Good" written on his arm has "trouble" written all over him. That kind of tattoo isn't a fashion mistake; it's a warning: Beware of swollen ego. It also might mean he's out to live up to the boast.

Just as a man who wears a wedding ring is telling you he's married, a man who sports a "Damn, I'm Good" tattoo is telling you something equally obvious. Fall for him and the two of you are likely to end up in love with the same person: him.

There is a flip side to all this, a fact in which my male friends display an inordinate amount of interest and derive an obscene amount of pleasure. The flip side, of course, is this: Just as certain looks will almost always produce a quick and decisive "see ya"' (dress pants worn with tennis shoes is a classic example), there are certain looks to which women report an almost animal attraction.

For one woman I know, any brother who wears patterned socks (or, better yet, no socks) with thin Italian loafers is guaranteed at least a lunch date. For her hairdresser, an earring (diamond stud or tiny gold hoop) worn with a day-old designer beard spell Y-E-S! And red suspenders have been known to make many a woman's heart snap.

I know a lot of sisters who claim they can tell a lot of important things about a man just by looking at his shoes: a man who wears wingtips, they say, is conservative, traditional, white collar and plays by the rules. A man who wears thin Italian loafers, on the other hand, is a free spirit, a non-conformist, a risk taker with a well-honed sense of fashion, humor and confidence. Add tassels, and he probably has a wild streak to boot.

No one is suggesting that you can--or should--judge a book by its cover or a man by his shoes. After all, a man in Gucci loafers might wind up trying to walk all over you, too. When it comes to romance, there is no such thing as ready-to-wear. But you do have to know how to read between the signs. Just as the cover shouldn't be ignored if you're thinking about reading the book, when it comes to men, the cover-up shouldn't be ignored if you're thinking about a second look.

A person's appearance in general and their clothes in particular can provide some pretty good clues about how they see themselves and the world--and maybe even how they might see themselves in your world. A dashing dresser might look good to you and even better escorting you, but he might also be so self-absorbed that you have to take a number for mirror time in the bathroom.