By Susanne Forestieri
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 with
shiny doodads, men are beginning to pay attention to their homes as well
as their bodies to attract a female.
If you didn't see this coming, you weren't paying attention. In 1994 we
were introduced to the new breed of man, the metrosexual -- a heterosexual
with attributes usually associated with gay men; i.e. a highly
developed sense of fashion and style. In 2003, when cable TV, often a
bellwether of changing attitudes, introduced "Queer Eye for the Straight
Guy," a reality show in which a crackerjack makeover team of five openly
gay men transformed a benighted heterosexual guy into an attractive
package 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 try
redecorating or "divorce decorating" as a way to redefine themselves
and become more competitive in the mating game. More costly, but less
arduous than working out, it may rival a pheromone cologne
("scientifically proven to attract women fast") as the ultimate babe
magnet.
Divorced men may be categorized as the young and the not-so-young. The
young take their cue from Hugh Hefner of Playboy fame in trying to
create the perfect "bachelor pad," a term which may be dated, but they
don't know it because they were born after 1959 when Hefner filled his
Playboy Mansion with the latest gadgets and technology. These guys
typically ask a decorator to "class up the joint" or make it "party
worthy." The not-so-young, who as a whole are less interested in
partying late into the night, have the advantage of experience, but
also 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 from
multiple 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 and
sleek 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 he
really shows his zeal is in shag carpet, bamboo, and tile flooring -- the
different textures, he firmly suggests, women experience by removing their shoes
upon 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 over
experience") but realizing his place might not entice Ms. Right, he
enlisted the help of Durette, of Durette Candito Design, to make the place
more "girl friendly." Before the makeover, the pool table, sports photos and framed
memorabilia were the first things you saw when you entered. Durette
kept the pool table but deep-sixed the pictures, which Rick replaced
with a Ciclee print whose title ("The Look of Love") and imagery (two
half-filled wine glasses and a single rose) is perhaps a little too
obvious. Durette probably wouldn't have approved the purchase, but she
was 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 by
Number Five.
Doug, a professional, also in his sixties but looking fifty at most, is
the opposite of Rick in many ways and his home reflects it. A bon
vivant and avid collector, his domicile is cluttered and eclectic to say
the least.
His possessions include, but are not limited to, his first wife's dining
room set, a tapestry, his mother's escritoire, oriental rugs and Le
Corbusier leather and chrome sofa and chairs. It's no wonder he had to
call in a decorator to tie it all together, which she did by
strategically rearranging the furniture and changing the color of the
walls. 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 all
away 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].