Today, I could talk about Global Warming scandals or Hillary Clinton’s reported temper tantrums or how not-funny Amy Schumer is. (Because she’s really not funny.)
But I’m not. Instead, I’m going to talk about man buns and how much I hate them.
If this was simply an aesthetic rant about how dumb and unkempt and homeless man buns usually look, I wouldn’t waste your time addressing the issue. I’m not even sure I’d bring it up just to point out how utterly pretentious most man-bun sporters are, walking around like they’re God’s gift to the universe because they look dumb and unkempt and homeless.
(Sorry to those men who manage not to look dumb and unkempt and homeless while wearing man buns. But you’re few and far between.)
However, it seems like the man bun phenomena is the latest offshoot of emasculating men… one more way to make them fit into some sick, psycho-feminist version of what a man is supposed to be.
For too many decades now, men have been told they’re a second-rate gender (or even third- or fourth-rate, depending on your definition of the word). And so they’ve responded to the criticism by increasingly feminizing themselves.
I’m not talking about watching an occasional chick flick or holding meaningful conversations about something other than football. Real men aren’t Neanderthals or meatheads or misogynists.
But they’re also not women.
Real men strive to be intelligent, respected and respectable – the opposite of dumb, unkempt and homeless, by the way – by working hard in life to support or prepare for their families. As un-feminist as this might seem, men are supposed to be leaders. Real leaders – the kind who act with integrity and confidence and courage.
I know I want a strong man someday. Someone I can respect. Someone who can keep down a job.
Besides, from my experience, men are already as emotionally needy as I can tolerate without them taking on more “female” qualities.
So please, men… Be men! And let us women be women. We’re much better at it anyway.
Including wearing buns.