As I made my way to Saks Fifth Avenue Tuesday, the battle we real men must wage crystallized before my eyes.
On the north side of Kennedy Boulevard was Rigatoni: wings, pizza and ice cream. Directly across the street was the Kim Salon and Oxygen Bar.
This is the apex we stand at today. The metrosexual movement continues to permeate the lives of those of us who drink Miller High Life and eat fried-egg sandwiches (not necessarily together), and the sad part is we're not getting help from the one group we should be able to count on: men.
Consider Tuesday's fashion show staged by Saks and Tampa Bay Illustrated. It celebrated the so-called "Perfect 10, Tampa Bay's Most Fashionable Men." It wasn't that long ago when real men would flee from such a dubious distinction. Tolerable? Presentable? Bearable? Yes.
Fashionable? Somebody hand me a sweatshirt and a baseball cap.
Some of the men could be excused for partaking in such a charade. After all, Bucs cornerback Ronde Barber and Minnesota Twins pitcher Brad Radke have professional sports to counter the ill will of such a label. Radke, a Tampa native, couldn't avoid the title even if he wanted to. His wife Heather owns Guillot Apothecary on Bay-to-Bay Boulevard.
Of course, it's worth noting, while they appear in the magazine spread on the subject, neither was in the fashion show. This is how you save face in the locker room.
No excuses can be made for WFLA-Ch. 8 sports anchor J.P. Peterson. Sportscasters and sports writers (current and former, like me) have spent decades proudly crafting a reputation of being lunching-munching-crunching slobs. Hence the name "hacks."
All of that has been destroyed thanks to Peterson, who began the assault by appearing in this month's issue of Tampa Bay Illustrated wearing a pink shirt. He tried to regain some respect by modeling a black leather jacket Tuesday, but there is no true recovery.
Worst of all, Peterson offered no apologies to true sports journalists like Times columnist Gary Shelton and Tribune columnist Martin Fennelly.
"You think I want to be lumped in with those lumpies?" Peterson quipped. "Shelton and Fennelly? Are you kidding me? And you can print that."
Then he walked away to get more sushi. You know, a sports career is such a terrible thing to waste.
Steve Schmalhorst, managing general partner of A La Carte Pavilion, appeared to be comfortable on the runway as he paraded around in an array of different attire. But is he comfortable with "most fashionable" being on his resume?
"Yeah, hesitantly so," said Schmalhorst, displaying the proper degree of sheepishness needed in this case.
Without such contrition, Schmalhorst might have been required to turn in his macho card at the door. But he claimed his usual wear is far more laid back, and he was ready to return to real men status. Perhaps there is hope.
The other perfect 10s also seemed to be nice guys. Elder Automotives vice president Rob Elder, physician Jesus Navarro, J.C. Newman Cigar Co. executive vice president Robert Newman, Grillmarks vice president Nick Pappas and Morton Plant Hospital urologist Craig Barkley were all aware of the damage they may have inflicted on us real men, but what could they do?
Who among us can turn down a chance to have 200 women swoon as we walk out in clothes we would never own? Besides, proceeds from the event benefitted The Spring, and chances to be charitable should never be turned down, even if they want your time and your dignity.
Leave it to Paul Wilborn, the city's creative industries manager and the 10th of Tampa Bay's Most Fashionable, to save the day with this bold observation.
"The problem is I make the Perfect 10 list now, when I'm engaged," Wilborn lamented. "Where was this when I was single? I could have gotten a lot of mileage out of this."
Now that's a real man. Of course, his lovely fiance Eugenie Bondurant was in the fashion show and heard him make that comment. My Wilborn prediction: cold showers for at least a week.
