Monday, 12 May 2008


I was reading some of my (very old) diaries over the weekend and found a little bit from when I was 17 and convinced I was going to die alone. I'd just had a messy break up (though I was the dumpER) and was sketching out my ideal man, because even though I was moping, I was still convinced of Prince Charming. It's a pretty interesting list to look at, because my lovely husband matches so few of the ridiculous criteria. And funnier still because I have a few friends who match so precisely and yet I've never been able to see as more than big goofy brothers - no salacious dreams, no impure thoughts whatsoever because that would be gross.

So as best a list I can cobble, if I was able to choose Prince Charming...

First and foremost he had to make me laugh. Now I've seen this little pearler on so many dating sites of late (I have a friend who likes me to peruse/veto/dissect RSVP profiles) but it's a bit of an abstract thing. I have a strange sense of humour. I love puns, I love witty little epithets, but I also have a 15 year old boy inside me that loves laughing at absolute ridiculous shite. I secretly loved American Pie. I think Bruce Willis is hilarious. I make bad taste jokes about NZ friends and sheep. But you have to understand the Chaser and political satire to truly make me laugh.

It was imperative that Princey was smart, not just a little bit bright, but gifted IQ. 145 minimum. I wanted to be challenged intellectually and almost competitively by someone who could talk with me coherently about the Mandelbrot set before moving onto politics and art. I foresaw nights curled up on a squishy opshop lounge chair debating vivaciously about wankerish elitist topics while drinking red wine.

I wanted artisitic, someone who wrote, or painted and could produce beautiful original things. Someone who could express themselves. And I guess I wanted some artistic temperament to go with it. A Gleam chaser. Someone who was stormy and tempestuous at times and glorious and sunny at others. Who radiated joie de vivre and would match me for crazy, unpredictable, spontaneous and heart bursting Phil adventures. I wanted to read their poetry or lyrics or their canvas and be inspired.

Following on from that I wanted someone who could play music. Someone who sang, or played guitar or preferrably piano. I have always been melted by the piano, and as someone whose favourite feature on a man is hands/wrists/forearms, fingers splayed over a keyboard is almost erotic. In fact one crush I had in highschool persisted long after it should have based solely on how much I loved watching him play piano or shift gears while driving.

I wanted him to speak another language. Didn't matter which one, but I guess I have an attraction to European languages. Spanish, French, not so much Italian, Russian, Finnish, Swedish... all good. An accent would be perfect as well, and in fact accents still make me weak at the knees.

Another must of this Charming royal of mine, was that he would be very much attached to his family and friends and want one of his own. I wanted a man who loved children and foresaw himself sitting on a couch with a baby snoring into his shoulder. Who liked the idea of watching ballet concerts with little bepigtailed princess girls or running alongside a bicycle as his son pedalled furiously along before veering off into a bush.

He had to have an element of the silly and the childlike, who could appreciate things like eating icecream, building sandcastles, watching B grade and blockbuster action movies, play wrestling, pillow fights, silly sex, computer games, card games, laughing at inappropriate times... basically so I didn't feel like such a loon when I did all of the above!

Physically I wasn't so stringent. Even as a teenager I struggled to describe a "type" and none of my boyfriends physically resembled eachother at all, but there were certain things that have always done it for me...

He had to be tall. I'm 5'7/170cm which isn't particularly tall, but it's not short either, and I wanted to be able to wear my highest boots and still only come up to chin height. Probably a remnant from movies where the heroine is always being kissed on the top of her head when she has a bad day. I have lots of bad days, I like being kissed on my hair, ergo, he had to be tall.

Buildwise although I can very much appreciate the ripped physique, I've always had a thing for the weedy, pale English type. Ewan McGregor in trainspotting. Long and wiry and lean and pale. Sinewy. Very very strong. But not over muscled. Not the all American hero. Someone who was perfectly capable of keeping my hands pinned behind my back but who I wasn't worried was going to crush me under their Mr Universe pectorals. Someone who would look incredible in a perfectly tailored suit.

Dark hair. I have never been attracted to blondes. I think this partially stems from my Mum telling me very young that all blonde men went bald, and while this is not entirely true, blondies do seem to go thin faster than brunettes, and I think this may have stuck in my head. There is just something about very dark hair though that attracts me. Maybe it's narcissism :p

Blue or green eyes. Preferrably blue. I think it's the combo with the dark hair that makes me swoon. I don't know what it is about this "type" aside from the fact that it's so striking. I always notice men who have dark hair and blue eyes and it always makes my breathing just that little bit shallow. Even now that I'm a happily married old matron!

The aforementioned hands. I can't stand "girly" hands on a man. I HATE long fingernails on men. I cannot stand fat wrists, no tone, creepy fingers... Hands are a deal breaker. You've heard of men who won't date women over a Size 6 or with less than a D cup? Well I'm as shallow as them because hands are a make or break thing. In fact pretty much all of the above can be overcome by a pair of beautiful hands lol. The wrists and forearms are incorporated into this, and the stronger and leaner they are then the more infatuated I become. I admit it, I'm a wrist pervert.

So what does this all add up to? Let me summarise Prince Charming. A foreign artistic clown who laughs at my jokes and is incredibly intelligent, artistic, insane, and goofy, who plays piano, loves children and is very tall, thin, dark haired, blue eyed and has perfect forearms... not so much to ask for! And funnily enough, I married my perfect match who meets very few of those criteria. Careful what you wish for eh?

1 comment:

Peter said...

In relation to my ability to use my own checklist and successfully select a partner. As Dr Phil would say, "hows that working out for you ?" Answer:CRAP. But the first time I go outside the square, bingo! So yeah the checklist is nice, (least now I can see where I fall short LOL) but it can be a distraction too. The right people show up in the strangest places dont they ?


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