“The Antidote to Thigh-High Boots”
How much do clothes really contribute to sexual attraction? Not very much, says Nerve.com. Okay then, Nerve writers, I have a challenge for you. I totally dare you to go out partying in Brooklyn or wherever dressed in the worst outfit of all time: Crocs, hippie patchwork pants (cargo sweatpants or other ludicrous trousers also acceptable), and a John McCain for President t-shirt. If you still get laid anyway, I’ll admit I’m wrong. Not so sure of yourselves now, are you?
The anti-aphrodisiac qualities of hippies and John McCain are nearly universal, but nothing else in dating is predictable, as today’s story, an e-mail submission from “Esmeralda,” proves. Esmeralda says she inspired rapturous worship from “Pete” the first time he saw her, wearing her “sloppiest, least attractive clothes.” She presents this story as “the antidote to thigh-high boots” and an affirmative message that “there is hope for all the dykey straight girls!” So it’s shocking to hear that that Esmeralda totally rejected Pete and turned down free sex.* Let’s see the clothes, then hear the full story.
When I was researching plaid hoodies online, I kept seeing ad copy like “show off your steez” and “skate through town giving the finger to the man.” All this time, I was under the impression that I could do these activities while driving around town in a 1996 Honda Civic, wearing a structured jacket. I thought I was showing off my steez!
“Esmeralda” is in her 20’s and lives in Chicago. She works in theatrical administration, but likes the more hands-on aspects of theater, so she answered a call for volunteers to help paint a set “Pete” was building. Expecting (accurately) to get painty, she wore the scruffy clothes pictured above. Eight hours later, she was home from the set and receiving communiques from Pete about how “pretty and adorable” she was; he also mentioned how cute she looked in the hoodie.
Esmeralda asked that I censor out identifying details of this story to protect Pete’s fragile self-image, so I won’t reveal what medium of communication Pete used to romance her. I will tell you that it was either AOL Instant Messager, Myspace chat, Facebook chat, Gmail chat, text message, phone calls, or e-mail. The only reason I’m willing to blur out the details for Esmeralda is because I find her innocence so beautiful. Someday she will be old and jaded and have her own blog, with thinly-veiled unflattering portraits of everyone she knows.
Anyhow, whatever medium it was, his use of it was “a very… effusive.” She found the multiple contacts slightly creepy, but Pete himself was cute — he’s “a self-described artfag with the haircut that wins me over every time – short in back and on the sides, long in the front.” So they ended up going on two dates. During this time, his e-mails/Facebook chats/phone calls/whatever they were became erotic, while their real-life relationship never progressed beyond wild public making out. Apparently this PDA was needed to prevent awkward silences, because Pete’s conversation was limited to how gorgeous she was; “at first it was flattering and kinda hot, but then it became like, Okay, what else do you have to say to me?”
Their short-lived relationship ended when Pete had a needy outburst over some misunderstanding about the scheduling of a date. “Surely for the best, because he was crazypants, but also sad, because we had fantastic chemistry.” The lesson: Always play hard-to-get, at least a little. If you can get someone wondering about whether you would fuck them, maybe they will fuck you just to find out.
*I’m including this story because she clearly could have gotten laid.