What do women want? It was a question Freud asked in some frustration and a question that an increasing number of divorced men are trying to answer in the context of home decor. Taking a page from the Bower Bird playbook, which describes how industrious males construct nests withshiny doodads, men are beginning to pay attention to their homes as wellas their bodies to attract a female.
If you didn't see this coming, you weren't paying attention. In 1994 wewere introduced to the new breed of man, the metrosexual -- a heterosexualwith attributes usually associated with gay men; i.e. a highlydeveloped sense of fashion and style. In 2003, when cable TV, often abellwether of changing attitudes, introduced "Queer Eye for the StraightGuy," a reality show in which a crackerjack makeover team of five openlygay men transformed a benighted heterosexual guy into an attractivepackage for his main squeeze, it was an instant hit.
From the world of reality TV to the real world is only a small step for mankind. More and more men who are alone after a divorce tryredecorating or "divorce decorating" as a way to redefine themselvesand become more competitive in the mating game. More costly, but lessarduous than working out, it may rival a pheromone cologne("scientifically proven to attract women fast") as the ultimate babemagnet.
Divorced men may be categorized as the young and the not-so-young. Theyoung take their cue from Hugh Hefner of Playboy fame in trying tocreate the perfect "bachelor pad," a term which may be dated, but theydon't know it because they were born after 1959 when Hefner filled hisPlayboy Mansion with the latest gadgets and technology. These guystypically ask a decorator to "class up the joint" or make it "partyworthy." The not-so-young, who as a whole are less interested inpartying late into the night, have the advantage of experience, butalso feel a little insecure about decorating. Their typical request of a professional decorator is to make it "less of a guy’s house," or pull together "the debris frommultiple failed marriages."
Marc is young. Not one to mope around after a divorce, he threw out the wife's "Americana crap" and with the help of a decorator created a"cool bachelor pad." Finally he was able to indulge his taste for contemporary European design and purchased a leather sectional couch andsleek espresso-colored furniture. Ever since Hefner set the example, men have been wiring their pads. Marc is no exception. He takes pride in his state-of-the-art sound system and mood lighting. Men on the make are advised to keep their bathrooms clean and have plenty of toilet paper visible.Marc goes the extra mile and includes a tray of perfumes. But where hereally shows his zeal is in shag carpet, bamboo, and tile flooring -- the different textures, he firmly suggests, women experience by removing their shoesupon entering. It "puts them in the mood," he says with a leer.
Rick, sixty-ish and divorced four times, takes a different approach. Wanting to marry a fifth time, (some would say "the triumph of hope overexperience") but realizing his place might not entice Ms. Right, heenlisted the help of Durette, of Durette Candito Design, to make the placemore "girl friendly." Before the makeover, the pool table, sports photos and framedmemorabilia were the first things you saw when you entered. Durettekept the pool table but deep-sixed the pictures, which Rick replacedwith a Ciclee print whose title ("The Look of Love") and imagery (twohalf-filled wine glasses and a single rose) is perhaps a little tooobvious. Durette probably wouldn't have approved the purchase, but shewas focused on the big picture -- the walls and floors. To her credit,intuition told her that Rick was a man who is completed by a woman,which meant leaving lots of empty space and niches to be filled byNumber Five.
Doug, a professional, also in his sixties but looking fifty at most, isthe opposite of Rick in many ways and his home reflects it. A bonvivant and avid collector, his domicile is cluttered and eclectic to saythe least.
His possessions include, but are not limited to, his first wife's diningroom set, a tapestry, his mother's escritoire, oriental rugs and LeCorbusier leather and chrome sofa and chairs. It's no wonder he had tocall in a decorator to tie it all together, which she did bystrategically rearranging the furniture and changing the color of thewalls. But Doug realizes that despite the makeover, a woman might have trouble fitting herself, much less her belongings into what he calls his"fortress of solitude," -- he fervently declares he would throw it allaway and start over from scratch with the right woman.
Men are the true romantics.
Susanne Forestieri was the winner of the prestigious 1996 National Endowment for the Arts fellowship in painting. As an NEA fellowship winner, she is represented in the Smithsonian Museum of American Art. She can be contacted at [email protected].