Single By Choice One Man's Gripe

Single By Choice
One Man's Gripe
Women keep upgrading their formula for Mr. Right
By WALTER KIRN

Aug. 28, 2000

Whatever it is that women want in men, two things are certain: a) it changes annually, and b) women never seem to find it. In the '70s, they looked for sensitivity. Then came a backlash. Strength was the ideal; then strength and sensitivity combined. And a willingness to commit, of course--without being clingy. Clinginess was fatal. A little success and power were welcome too, as long as the man in question wasn't controlling. Now, it seems that what's wanted is a soul mate, a sort of buff Buddha who's terrific in bed, who's on top of his health, his finances and emotions and can serve in a pinch as a spiritual adviser. It's a testimony to women's romantic natures that they really believe such men exist out there.
Human mating wasn't always this complicated. When it came to attracting a woman's interest, it used to be easy for a guy: get a good job and use deodorant. To be considered promising-husband material, a man didn't even have to be good-looking; he just had to have a job--and use deodorant. That was my father's world. It disappeared some time between the Beatles and the Eagles and didn't return. What replaced it was a shopping list. A long one, always subject to revision and spur-of-the-moment additions and deletions--the sort of list that women bring to supermarkets.
I once dated a woman, a New York artist, who went through her checklist for me, point by point. Her dream man needed to earn more money than she did--50% more, to be exact. He had to have a wide and varied social circle drawn from the city's upper echelons. Last, he had to be in therapy--not just any form of therapy, mind you, but classical Freudian therapy. I was flummoxed. Because I liked the woman, I set to work remaking myself according to her outline, but midway through my self-improvement drive, she dropped me cold. I was trying too hard, she said. My question to her was, Why would any man slave for riches, cultivate snobbish friends and lie down twice a week on a shrink's couch except to impress some woman? She couldn't answer this.
What hasn't changed over all these years is what men want in women. If the drama of sexual interest is a dance, it's a dance with a broomstick, men being the broomstick. They stand there, staring at a woman's chest, while the woman whirls around in circles, making requests and ticking off conditions. Come closer. No, give me space. Commit. Back off. Toughen up. Soften up. Lighten up. Get serious. It's enough to drive a guy to drink, but unfortunately contemporary women no longer find hard-drinking men attractive. This too will change, though.
In the meantime, men will continue to mold themselves to fit the ideal of the moment. Witness Al Gore. In his quest to attract the women's vote, he has tried everything from empathy to aggression, sports jackets to polo shirts. Poor thing. By trying to look strong, he risks appearing weak--a mistake I made once myself. I'm wiser now. Whatever it is that women want in men, they'll want something different next year, with one exception. They'll always prefer guys who use deodorant.
Walter Kirn is married