Tag Archives: men’s fashion

Movember Memories: Recounting The Time I Let My Beard Grow For Three Months

Close up man 's face with a beard and mustache

Greetings, and a very happy Movember to everyone. What is Movember, you ask? It’s not a holiday, a new social movement, or some exciting business opportunity that requires your credit card number. It’s actually an engaging, month-long event that helps raise awareness for objectively good causes.

Specifically, those causes involve serious issues affecting men, such as prostate cancer, testicular cancer, and suicide. In the same way Breast Cancer Awareness Month brings attention to a serious health issue that affects women, Movember does something similar for men. However, participating involves more than just talking about these issues.

Men who participate in this effort show their support by growing mustaches. For an entire month, they channel their inner Ron Swanson to show support for those affected by this issue. It may not seem like much, but it has had a positive impact. In 2012, the Movember Foundation raised $95 million dollars. Also, like Ron Swanson, it demonstrates the power of the mustache.

If you haven’t already, please consider donating to the Movember Foundation. Whether you’re liberal, conservative, feminist, libertarian, socialist, communist, or even an anarchist, it’s a great cause that helps a lot of people. I know gender politics is very heated these days, but providing support to those who need it should not be controversial.

In the spirit of Movember, I’d like to share a personal story that I think is fitting for this cause. It has to do with me and my relationship to facial hair. It’s something nearly every man has to deal with as they grow up. Everyone goes about it their own way. Some have to figure out the hard way that there’s a right and wrong way to manage it.

That’s exactly what I had to go through one fateful fall during my first semester of college. It was an exciting time. The nightmare that was high school was over. My acne problem had finally passed. I had been accepted into my top choice school. I finally had a chance to live on my own and get a taste of real independence. These were exciting times, indeed.

I celebrated that independence in many ways, but one of the first was that I stopped shaving entirely. For me, that was a big deal because I liked letting my facial hair grow. At first, it was just a good way for me to cover my acne. After a while, I just liked the way it made me look. Like my father and uncles, facial hair made me look distinctly masculine. It also gave me some badly-needed confidence.

While living at home, my mother often made me shave or trim my beard. Usually, she wouldn’t let me go more than two weeks without some kind of trim. I understand why she did it, but I still wanted to develop my own manly look. In college, I got that chance and I took it.

For three straight months, I did not shave. I didn’t use any blades, clippers, or trimmers. I just let my beard grow. Compared to all the other crazy things I could’ve done during my first semester in college, it was pretty tame. For me, though, it was a genuine thrill because I got to decide for myself how I wanted to look.

As a result, I learned a lot of important lessons about facial hair. For one, it can get dandruff. That actually became an issue at one point. It wasn’t enough to make me shave it, but after about two months, I had to actually put shampoo in my beard to keep the dandruff from getting too bad.

The next thing I notices is that when food gets caught in it, you tend not to notice until hours later. When a good chunk of your diet consists of noodles and cafeteria food, that is somewhat of an issue. One time, I got a box of buffalo wings for a football game. It got so messy that there were sauce stains in my beard for the rest of the day. Considering how much I love that smell, I didn’t see that as a bad thing.

Then, the weather got cold and I learned something else about having a thick beard. It will freeze up in a cold rain. A week before Thanksgiving, some freezing rain hit the area and I actually felt miniature icicles form in my beard. It was a weird feeling, but I didn’t see it as a detriment.

Shortly after that, though, I finally caved and trimmed it. I didn’t shave all of it off. I just trimmed it. My reason for doing so had less to do with the effects of the hair and more to do with the overall look it gave me. In addition to not shaving my beard, I didn’t cut my hair either. In doing so, I learned that unkempt hair over my entire face just wasn’t a good look for me.

I won’t say I looked bad. I’ll just say that I looked a bit too much like a first-year college student who enjoyed not being told when to shave. At one point, I looked like a crazed mountain man who lived in a cabin without running water. You can get away with that look in college. In the professional world, however, it’s a bit tougher.

After trimming it for Thanksgiving, I finally got into the habit of trimming it regularly. For a while, I just trimmed it with clippers every two weeks. Eventually, I got around to actually shaving parts of it. At one point, I did shave all of it off, but that did not look good on me. By the time I graduated college, I found a look that I embraced.

Currently, I maintain a healthy patch of facial hair that I try to keep trim. I haven’t let my beard grow that much in a long time. For Movember, though, I occasionally let my mustache get extra thick. I think it looks good on me and it helps me convey the kind of masculinity I want.

I don’t know if I’ll ever let my beard grow that thick again. Maybe at some point down the line, I’ll give it another shot. It may look better on me now than it did in college. If I do, I’ll be sure to share the results.

In the meantime, I encourage everyone to participate or contribute to Movember. Again, please take some time to donate to the Movember Foundation. There are serious male issues worth confronting. You don’t have to grow a thick beard like I did. You just have to let your manly mustache do the talking.

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Daily Sexy Musings: Well-Dressed Men

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You can tell a lot about a man by how he dresses. Say what you will about someone who wears fancy clothes and buys overpriced hair care products. A man who puts genuine effort into how they look says they value the image they present. It’s not always out of pure vanity. When done right, a well-dressed man can have genuine appeal, including the sexy kind.

I can safely say that I feel genuinely sexy as a man when I put on one of my suits. It’s not just that the suit costs more than discount T-shirts from Wal-Mart. It gives me a sense of confidence and worth. I worked on myself and a nice suit helps put it all on display. The following Daily Sexy Musing is my way of giving that unique feeling some substance to go with the style. Enjoy!

I stand in front of the mirror, wearing a freshly-ironed shirt, a perfectly-tailored pair of slacks, and an imported silk tie that was grossly overpriced. I don’t mind, though. I put it on with pride, smiling to myself as I smooth it out and fix every wrinkle. Then, I put on my blazer and button it up.

It marks the end of a masculine metamorphosis. I’m no longer the man who groaned restlessly as he got out of bed. Now, I’m a man ready to take on the world and look good doing it. Everything about me feels more refined. My poise, my demeanor, and my attitude are heightened. There’s nothing I can’t achieve.

I turn around and see you standing in the door. You look at me the same way you look at a beautiful sunset. You’ve seen me at my best and at my worst. You’ve seen me naked and wearing clothes so cheap they barely qualify as rags. However, in that moment, I become something greater in your eyes.

I am a man of confidence, determined and driven.

I am a man of worth, having strived and earned.

I am a man of grit, willing to work and achieve.

You walk over to me. You place your arms around my neck. You feel the fancy fabrics now covering my body. It may only be the shell, but it makes everything within shine brighter. I feel your admiration in every glance. As I take in your touch, I sense more than admiration.

In these clothes, overpriced they may be, you don’t just see the man I am. You see the man I strive to be. Through what I ware, I say to you that I want to be more. I seek to be a man that others respect. More importantly, I seek to be a man you desire. With every admiring glance, I know I’m succeeding.

I can tell you want me.

I can tell you love me.

I can tell you feel my love.

As I hold you, the fancy fabrics cling to my skin. From a rough-cut diamond to a polished gem, I am the best man I can be for you. It’s enough to make you want to tear my suit off and show why you’re the best lover a man could hope for. I know you want to. I feel it as your hands tremble.

I share your want, but I cannot forget. There is work to be done. I let you admire me as long as you need to. I then whisper into your ear a tantalizing preview of what awaits us tonight. Your smile widens and your face blushes. I’ve just given us both something to anticipate.

I put this suit on with goals in mind and determination in heart. You give me a reason to wear it with pride and honor. Now, I look forward to the moment when you help me take it off.

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The Time I Tried On A Banana Hammock (And Loved It)

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Brace yourself because I’m about to get personal. That’s right. I’m taking a break from talking about disturbing trends in sexual attitudes, major upheavals from technological advances, and sex robots to share a little something about myself that should offer some revealing insight into my sexy way of thinking.

Ideally, I’d like this personal anecdote to convey a larger meaning, of sorts. I’d like it to help reinforce some of the points I often make about double standards, sexual norms, and our overall sexual mentality. If it just ends up as me sharing another quirky story from my life, I’ll be okay with that too. Be forewarned, though. This is one of those stories that might be both funny and unflattering.

It’s not a very elaborate story, nor would I consider it a major turning point in my life. It’s not even the most personal story I’ve shared on this blog, especially compared to ones that involve awkward boners. In fact, the entirety of the story can be summed up in one simple sentence.

I tried on a banana hammock and loved it.

In case you don’t know what a banana hammock is, it’s basically the male version of a thong. I’m not talking about a speedo swimsuit that you might see at a beach in Rio. I’m talking about the kind of underwear that is basically a fancy napkin held in place by dental floss. If you need a more visual reference, this is what one looks like.

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Granted, most men don’t look that fit, but that’s not the point of the story or why I’m sharing it. I know banana hammocks are basically a novelty, one usually reserved for male strippers, underwear models, and body builders. They don’t have the same reverence that female thongs have and there’s a reason for that. However, it’s the extent of that reason that makes me want to share this story.

For context, here’s how it all played out. It takes place during my last few years in college, a time when I was finally recovering from the social anxieties I’d developed in high school and began emerging from my shell. During those years, I was lucky enough to have a couple of really great roommates with whom I didn’t mind sharing personal stuff.

One of those roommates, as it just so happens, loved banana hammocks. To him, they were just something he wore to fool around, but he still loved them. Me being the kind of guy who had worn boxers since middle school, I didn’t see the appeal. Then, one day, for reasons I can only attribute to boredom and curiosity, my roommate dared me to try one on.

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I’m not usually one to take people up on foolish dares that don’t involve pizza toppings, but I found myself seriously considering it. My roommate even sweetened the deal by letting me wear one that he hadn’t opened yet. It was still sealed in a plastic package, having never touched another man’s package, so to speak. It was one of those opportunities for which I couldn’t make many excuses.

Me being just as bored and/or curious, I decided to take my roommate up on his dare. I wouldn’t just keep my shirt on either. I would go into the bathroom, take everything off, and come out wearing only that banana hammock. Short of walking around naked, it was the most exposed I could’ve been. This being before I started sleeping naked regularly, it would be a unique experience.

With all that in mind, I went into the bathroom, got undressed, and put the banana hammock on. I admit, it was somewhat uncomfortable at first, but not in the way you might think. I just wasn’t used to my underwear cradling my man parts the way this thing did. After a moment, though, something amazing happened.

I found myself really liking how it looked on me. I found myself posing a bit in front of the mirror. Keep in mind, though, that this is a time in my life before I started exercising regularly. I wasn’t necessarily unhealthy since I walked everywhere in college, but I wasn’t as fit as I am now. Even so, wearing that banana hammock made me feel downright sexy.

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I can honestly say I had never felt that sexy before in my life and that includes the moments I’d spent with women. I felt like I could walk up to a woman with confidence and proudly declare that I am a sexy man who enjoys the company of sexy women. Sure, that might have gotten me some odd looks, but I wouldn’t have cared. I felt that good.

Needless to say, I walked out of that bathroom feeling a lot less self-conscious than I’d anticipated. Even my roommate seemed a little surprised. His reaction, however, was kind of predictable. He wasn’t shocked or anything. He just laughed, clapped, and said it looked good on me. I remember laughing too and cracking some dirty jokes. I still don’t think it conveyed the impact of the moment.

At the time, it felt like one of those things immature college guys do when they’re in between classes. Over time, though, that experience has stuck with me and for the right reasons. That was one of the first times I really knew what it was like to feel confident as a man. It wouldn’t be the last, though.

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As I got older, I had more of those moments that helped strengthen me into the man I am now. However, that one fateful day when I tried on a banana hammock for the first time and loved it stands out more than most. Unfortunately, I didn’t get to keep it. My roommate still took it back. I think he even wore it the next day, although I’m not sure.

Whatever the case, the impact was indelible and I’ve found myself contemplating it more lately. As I said before, a beautiful woman wearing a thong isn’t that much of a spectacle anymore. If anything, it’s celebrated. It’s a symbol of sexiness. It creates spectacles at the beach and inspires sexy songs.

For men, though, the reaction is different. I won’t go so far as to say it’s a double standard. Granted, there are some men that can’t look that sexy in a banana hammock, just as there are some women who can’t pull it off either. Even for the men who do, though, it’s not seen with the same sexual aura.

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A man walking around in a banana hammock is sure to generate plenty of looks, but they don’t evoke the same intrigue and interest as a female thong. Some women may find it attractive, as the success of the “Magic Mike” movies has shown. Others may find it funny. However, there’s still a notable gap between the sex appeal of a banana hammock and that of a thong.

Perhaps the success of movies like “Magic Mike” can narrow that gap. Personally, I hope it does. I think I look better in a banana hammock now than I did back in college. If I find myself in a relationship with someone, I’d like to think my lover would find it just as sexy as I would with them if they wore a thong.

In a sense, albeit a limited one, the disparity between banana hammocks and thongs reflect the different attitudes we have towards sex appeal. It’s far from the widest disparity between genders and, unlike others, isn’t that detrimental. That said, I do hope it narrows so men can enjoy that extra sexy feeling along with women. That, I believe, is a feeling that should be gender neutral.

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The Moments I Feel Sexy As A Man

People make a big fucking deal about it when a woman decides to be sexy. For reasons that our prudish, uneducated, superstitious ancestors have cursed us with, we’re immediately aghast when a woman dares show a significant amount of cleavage, mid-drift, or ass outlines. We’re still at an immature stage of our development as a civilization where the sight of a pair of tits is enough to stop traffic.

Now don’t get me wrong. I love and appreciate any and all women who decide to be sexy. I encourage every woman who reads this blog or my books to be as sexy as you damn well please. The world will be a better place because of it.

However, I’m also of the opinion that men can be sexy too. I’m also of the opinion that both genders have an equal right to be sexy. Whether you’re gay, straight, bi, or something else altogether, you should take some time to act, feel, or be sexy. You may not always have a lover to do it with, but sometimes just being sexy on your own is good enough.

For me, it kind of comes with the territory. When you’re constantly conjuring new plots for erotica/romance novels, you can’t help but get into a certain mindset. Since our caveman brains are so crude, it tends to be a side-effect of sorts. You contemplate sexy stories so you feel inclined to act sexy. It’s too damn logical.

For a man, I think it’s a bit harder to be sexy. We don’t have boobs and that immediately puts us at a disadvantage. However, we men do have assets. We do have quirks that make us feel like we’re James Bond in a speedo. They’re different for every man, but I’d like to share a few moments where I’m at my sexiest. If you don’t have a spare pair of panties handy, you may want to skip this.


One: When I Lay In Bed Naked After A Long Hard Day

This one should come as no surprise to anyone who follows this blog. I sleep naked. I enjoy sleeping naked. I encourage everyone, male or female, to sleep naked if it’s an option to them.

It’s not just good for the body and the soul. Laying naked under the sheets, you feel like you’ve returned to a more primal state. You’ve completed the hunt. You’ve done your tribe proud for the day. Now, you celebrate by enjoying a well-deserved rest.


Two: When I Put On A Suit And Tie

As a kid, I didn’t like wearing fancy clothes. They were itchy, cumbersome, and my parents always got upset when I spilled hot sauce on it. That’s to be expected. When you’re a kid, you don’t think about being sexy. You just think about candy, cartoons, and avoiding homework.

As an adult, I’ve grown quite fond of men’s fashion. I’ve found that when I put on a suit, even if it’s a cheap suit I bought from Walmart, I feel pretty damn sexy. I stand in front of the mirror, look at myself, and think, “Damn! Now that’s a guy who will get shit done.”

It helps that I look damn good in a suit as well. I know this because others who aren’t relatives have told me as such. Women definitely appreciate it more. They treat you very differently when you walk into a restaurant wearing a suit compared to jeans and a T-shirt I haven’t washed in three weeks. It doesn’t just show you take care of yourself. It shows you want the world to know how goddamn sexy you are.


Three: When I Finish A Novel

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This one is specific to me, an aspiring erotica/romance writer. It has nothing to do with my physical appearance. It doesn’t even have anything to do with what I’m wearing or not wearing. It’s just one of those powerful moments that is unique to me.

When I finished my first major book, “Skin Deep,” I felt like I could get a date with Jennifer Lawrence. I felt like I really accomplished something. I completed a piece of art that I put a lot of heart and soul into. I contributed to the world of sexiness by telling a damn sexy story. To say I had a little swagger in my step would’ve been a gross understatement.


 

Four: When I’m Exercising Or Finish Exercising

I don’t think this needs much explanation. It actually wasn’t until my late 20s that I began exercising regularly. Before that, I had a pretty unhealthy, pretty unsexy lifestyle. I avoided exercise whenever I could. I ate like I was still in college.

I eventually realized that this was not a healthy way to live my life. As such, I began eating a little better and working out. At first, it was a chore. I did it only because I had to or because I basically pushed myself to do it. Well, it turns out there was another reward that I didn’t expect.

Getting all hot and sweat, pushing my body and muscles to their limit, makes me feel sexy as hell. It makes my muscles bulge. It makes my skin glow. It makes me feel energized, like I could wrestle a bear and sing Metallica songs every step of the way. I may be dirty, disheveled, and smelly, but I feel like I maximize my manliness.


Five: When I Win An Argument Against An Asshole

In general, I try to avoid meaningless arguments. I’ve learned over the years that some things just aren’t worth arguing about because some people have their heads too far up their asses to see they’re wrong. I’ve been among those people. I admit, I’ve been laughably wrong at times and that’s not a good feeling.

However, on those rare occasions when I know I’m right and there’s an asshole on the other end, I make it a point to expose the bullshit. When I do, I can’t help but feel a little extra swagger. We live in a world where truth and honesty are at a premium. That makes them precious to both men and women alike. Possessing something that is precious can be damn sexy. Just ask any man who has a Lamborghini.


These are just some of the moments where I’m at my most sexy. These are the moments in which women have the best chance at seeing just how great Jack Fisher can be as a man, a lover, an erotica/romance writer, and everything in between. These moments can be fleeting, but they’re worth pursuing and cherishing at every turn.

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