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v.v. low. T-shirts and jeans kinda guy. Combed hair and a daily shower.

Emotionally? Well...I dunno. I think I'm pretty low-maintenance, but I've been told otherwise at times. ;-)

Compared to me, vidiot is high-maintenance. Shower, shave if I need it, brush teeth, out the door. Well, after putting on whatever clothes on the floor don't smell too bad.

Hey, that's pretty much my approach. Whatever T-shirt is on top of the pile and not moving, y'know?

(It's amazing Fes hangs out with us. Even online.)

My best guy-friend spends more money in a month on things I would classify as "cosmetics" than I spend in a year.

We had a wine-fueled discussion on the subject, and when he confessed to all the lotions and potions he dips himself in, I felt like Theodore Kaczynski in a shed.

And this from a woman whose little sister can apply eyeliner flawlessly while driving a car.

I am both low and high maintenance.

I don't wear makeup but I like to use good moisturizers.

I don't need a frilly bedroom but I like to sleep with lots of pillows.

I don't like to spend money on clothes but I like to wear nice things.

I like to look less than paleolithic. I suspect that sometimes I am guiilty of overgelling. But my wife takes great glee in informing me that my clothes often do not match.

I really just try to emulate Fes. I imagine a sort of Beau Brummelesque fashion guru, who takes the time to enlighten the masses. A boddhisattva of slacks.

Having given up shaving, I am now considering giving up haircuts altogether.

Hmm... I trim the beard and shave about once every ten days. Get a haircut about once every 2-3 months. I refuse to wear a t-shirt more than 3 times without washing it though, so I've got that going. Oh, socks and underwear get worn once and only once between washings, so I've got that going for me at least. Once I'm no longer employed, this is probably all, frighteningly enough, going to get worse.

Apparently I've got a lot going for me...

Yes ufez, but the big question is are you wearing the socks and underwear on the correct parts of your body?

Boy did I learn that one the hard way.

Ufez has it going on!

Where is Our Own Personal Jesus of Sartorial Splendor, Uncle Fes himself?

Also, I often find that I like to wear pants.

I try not to discriminate, kaf. I mean, sure, I've ruined a few good pairs of socks trying to work them over my patella and the folks at Target not only know me by name, they're starting to look at me funny, but it's all worth it to prevent a sad spleen.

Did I mention my fondness for hair clips?

Please, I beg you, tell us.

Hair clips? Hmmmm, sounds vaguely metrosexual.

Only if they're head hair clips.

They are clips for my ni- . . .hair. I also refer to them as barrettes.

Has anyone ever seen Ichi the Killer (aka Koroshiya 1)? Damn movie ruined nipples clamps for me forever.

They are gold and ornate or sometimes they are silver.

I'm kind of a tom-boy who wants to be a princess (or vice versa). I like to dress to the nines on some days, with the hair all shiny (sometimes with sparkly clips), the make-up all nice and my pretty little specs; on other days I like a pair of torn, paint-spattered jeans with matching sweatshirt and my scratched up Buddy Holly glasses.
I have not, as yet, really mastered the art of the high-heel shoe. Much to the entertainment of friends who have watched me try.

I like to think of myself as low-maintenance, but I've been told that I've got more issues than a lifetime subscription to National Geographic. I only wash my hair once a week, but that involves shampoo, soap, a rinse of brown vinegar, and conditioner. I revel in my workingman's hands but use curel on my (trimmed) eyebrow dandruff. I aspire to jonmc's devil-may-care aesthetic, but I also am jealous of Fes for his sartorial got-it-togetherness.
(and I just downed three Guinness in an hour excuse the self-undulgence.)

What about the emotional maintenance factor that Vidiot mentioned up-thread? Constant reassurance, or the occasional absent-minded pat on the head?

We all need emotional reassurances. Nobody is immune to that. However, this does not make people high maintenance. It just makes them people.

Someone mentioned that she hadn't yet mastered the high heel shoe. I haven't either but by choice. I believe they are modern age torture devices designed to control women.

Whoa.

Fishfucker and Rob from Cockeyed really need to hang out. Sacramento would be the better for it.

Online gambling is great fun. Our free slots pages show you the biggest jackpots and best slots online.

DIE, SPAMMER, DIE!

I am pretty damned split between the high maintenance and the low. I used to shop quite cozily in Value Village, and my entire wardrobe consisted of cast-offs, a few of them pretty nice ones. I was a real hunter of classy vintage clothes, many of which I still wear to fancy-schmancy events and people commend me on my foofy attire (my husband's birthday two days ago: vintage linen skirt, cast-off Calvin Klein shirt, some lacy jacket, and little crippler heels which went just so with the ensemble. That, plus grandma's rhinestone necklace as a hairtie, and I was a rhapsody in inexpensive swank).

And though I'd like to use "product" to keep my skin clear and soft, truthfully I only shower every coupla-few days, and to wash my face with numerous scrubs and thingies is just too damned fussy for me. I clean up real nice if I have to, but on the whole I'm generally slumming it in jeans, clean shirts but nothing special, and absurdly expensive shoes that I've found on sale.

(Except I spent 160 bucks on a pair of corderoy jeans a coupla years ago. I love them like mad, and I should have dry cleaned them, but they're cotton, right? I just couldn't be bothered, so they're losing their perfect lines and awesome tailoring to abuse in the washing machine. Oh freakin' well. They've served me well, and I've loved them deeply, so it's alright I guess.)

I'm unfortunately like an art critic in the fashion department; generally critical of execrable taste, but can't be bothered to clean myself up. Useless and pathetic.

Emotionally? I'd have to go with moderate. My husband, who knows me like no other, is pretty good at navigating the shark-infested waters when they show up. Blessedly, usually it's related to low-blood sugar or no sleep, often easily remedied.

Readymade, just seeing you stop by here made my low-maintenance heart jump for joy! How's that baby, huh?

All this time I thought readymade was a dude.

Hey, NYC monkeys. I would email this to you guys, but the Powers That Be have blocked personal e-mail at work.

I've supported an animal shelter in Brooklyn that apparently was not legit. There is now a desperate need for foster homes for the animals that were rescued from them - they especially need homes for kittens, but there are dogs involved too.

If any of you have any interest, just say so, and I will send you the contact info. And don't look at these pictures if you don't want your heart broken. http://hellobrooklyn.com/hearts/

Why don't you post that on MetaFilter, tizzie? You will probably find more takers. Sure, there are some steppers-on-of-puppies there, but most of them are big (if annoying) softies.

I'm happy to do that if you think it's ok, Kaf. I wasn't sure.

Man, with the bunch of shite that those goobers post, is that even relevant anymore?

Whether it's relevant or not, I just don't want to go sticking my animal loving self all up in peoples' bizness.

I'm too polite.

Good post!

I take a couple days of me-time (a day at the spa getting my feet pumiced and a clear-polish manicure, some yardwork, coupla scavenger hunts, first runner-up in a tree climbing contest, the culmination of my midday unused office supplies raid, wacky dead-goldfish replacement caper, first/last day fulfilling lifelong dream as bicycle courier, entire evening of listening to Linda Rondstadt records, last moment win in hotly contested Lawn Dart auction on Ebay, chili cook off, all-day wrangle with Verizon over new cell phone pick, fending off kisses from screaming schoolgirl fans, middle linebacker for my co-ed flag football team [nickname: Middlelinebackin' Fes], etc...) and I miss some sweet Monkey flattery! You all know my soft spots. Even a Bodhisattva has them. But thank you, all the same.

Regarding maintenance: I suppose that is some ways, I am high maintenance, nor am I without my peeves and quirks: My dress shirts are arranged by color, I only use one kind of soap, no one touches the lawn except for me, I hate back rubs, I clean my desk to the blotter and replace all the green Flair pens in my pen cup (it's actually a small german beer stein... a "pen stein," get it? GET IT??) each evening before leaving the office... But I take some comfort in the idea that what maintenance I demand I demand mostly of myself, and I try to minimize the cost to the rest of the humans.

Emotionally, I'm low maintenance, the utter opposite of the previous. I handle things myself, I'm not the suspicious or jealous type, I've been called "unflappable" and find myself overall to be quite shallow, emotionally speaking. I am not an overly spiritual or emoitional man, although I have been known to throw the occasional inanimate object. that's pretty rare, though. And even in extremis, I'm unlikely to bean you.

Tizzie! My dear! The bun is fabulous--throwing pears all over the kitchen at the moment. It seems that he and the old man have developed quite a little breakfast ritual of oatmeal, and anything other than that from his pop's lap is unacceptable. So I get smeared pear slices and no actual eating, but he's still sweet. Almost a year old, too! Which is pretty freakin' nuts.

Although I can't figure out how he can turn his nose up at homemade rice pudding or bananas, nature's perfect baby food....

It's so nice to come by at the end of a busy work day and see that someone has been here besides the freakin' spammers, blast their black hearts.

Fes, you should go on and take a couple of those kisses from your schoolgirl fans. You've earned them! You're clearly the paragon to which all future men in their lives must aspire.

Just make sure you don't gaze into their patent leather shoes.

Readymade, you almost made me miss my own childrens' tender baby years, there. For about 10 seconds. Then I remembered the smell of smeared pears and oatmeal, and I snapped right out of it. Phew. But hey, you enjoy!!!!

For the Bun:

What is the matter with Mary Jane?
She's crying with all her might and main,
And she won't eat her dinner-rice pudding again-
What is the matter with Mary Jane?

What is the matter with Mary Jane?
I've promised her dolls and a daisy-chain,
And a book about animals-all in vain-
What is the matter with Mary Jane?

What is the matter with Mary Jane?
She's perfectly well, and she hasn't a pain;
But, look at her, now she's beginning again!-
What is the matter with Mary Jane?

What is the matter with Mary Jane?
I've promised her sweets and a ride in the train,
And I've begged her to stop for a bit and explain-
What is the matter with Mary Jane?

What is the matter with Mary Jane?
She's perfectly well and she hasn't a pain,
And it's lovely rice pudding for dinner again!-
What is the matter with Mary Jane?

--A.A. Milne, When We Were Very Young.

Although it could also discribe my personal emotional maintenance factor ;)

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