THE MALE GAZE

In lieu of picking up chicks, picking apart chicks

Friday, June 22nd

I present:

Girl Next Door:

The girl next door doesn’t have to physically live next door to the protagonist. (Thank God. Do you know who lives next door to me?) She just generally does for the ease of the narrative. It sucks having to write your protagonist down the street or across town every time he needs to see his girl. Additionally, the girl next door is one that the protagonist has known all his life. It’s easier to know someone your whole life if they, you know, live next door. The GND is generally more mature than the boy. She represents the kind of feminine wisdom that some girls seem to have at that age. She’s the keeper of the secret that is the opposite sex. Generally, the boy has to mature a lot (more on that later) before he realizes that he wants to be with the girl next door. She symbolizes the good-natured, wholesome qualities that women are said to possess. The classic example is that of Whinnie, from The Wonder Years. By the way, she’s generally a brunette.

Tomboy:

The Tomboy should need less explanation than the GND. This is the girl that is unaware that she is a girl. Most of these sort of disappear when puberty hits and their body forces them to do the whole ‘girl’ thing. They play sports, have short hair, and are not afraid of mud. There’s research, I believe, into the correlation between the ‘tomboy’ stereotype and lesbianism in later life, but nothing solid.

Valley Girl:

The valley girl stereotype originally referred to the girls of the San Fernando Valley and originated in the ‘70s. She is tall, blonde, and well-equipped. By well-equipped, I mean in the physical, economic, and technological senses. And let us not forget fashion. She’s ill-equipped with language, but a descriptive linguist would probably disagree with me there. You know the type—concerned with appearances and popularity. I’m willing to bet a lot, actually, that there’s a lot more there than meets the eye. I’ve met a lot of apparently dumb popular girls who are, beneath the surface, quite smart. Don’t take anything for granted here, I say.

Slut:

I think we all know this one. Whether it’s the “daddy never loved me” issues or the “I have to do this to be popular” issues, this girl wants it… bad! And in a case of cosmic irony (YES) the slut is rarely attractive. Or if she is attractive, she’s only a slut for guys that are more popular and muscled than I. Whatever.

Femme Fatale:

This woman can be any of these stereotypes. The key to the Femme Fatale is not what she looks like or how she acts or how she knows the protagonist. She is the woman that brings about the protagonist’s downfall; but this is not always in the sense of leading to his death.

Princesse Lointaine:

Princesse Lointaine is the perfect woman. She is the girl that can only be viewed from afar. Never is she touched. Rarely is she spoken too. The French translates to “distant princess,” which is exactly what she is. Think of the Little Red-Haired Girl from the Peanuts comics. Zoë is an example of Princesse Lointaine that readers will recognize, though in her case there was occasional physical contact. … er. Again I fail to do this subject justice. Take my word for it that these girls are walking around everywhere, seen—but nothing else.

I say each has her own beauty. Or in the case of the Tomboy, his. I also say that I’ve only ever been attracted to the first and the final. I’ve dated the first. I think Carol at one point fit into the final, but when I got to know her she was just a regular girl. (Interesting insights there, probably another essay another time)

I’ve recently made it my goal to date or at least experience at least one of all of the above before I die. Hopefully I’ll land on Princesse Lointaine. I wouldn’t turn down a GND, either.

I worry that, having made this goal, I’ll peg each girl I meet into one of these categories, which would be stereotyping and bad. Then I remember that these are broad generalizations (read: generalizations about broads) and that they’re not meant to be perfect fits, anyway. One can be many of the others, as well. Perhaps somewhere there walks a girl who embodies all of the above. Perhaps every girl embodies some of the above.

In an unrelated note, I’ve been thinking lately about what distinguishes a girl from a woman, and vice versa.

The precipitating event is the meeting of Ashley (a different one). She went to High School with me, and now works at one of the campuses of the hospital at which I work. She is married now, at 19. She didn’t get herself preggers, mind. She just got married. I’d say it’s most likely because her boy was going to Iraq. Anyway, I still think of her as a girl, and she’s really a grown woman. She’s married and supporting herself and her education with two jobs, no longer living at home. Yet I still think of her as a girl. Incidentally, my mother was married at her age (which is also my age).

Conversely, I still haven’t figured out if I consider myself a boy or a man. For myself, I might draw the line at living at home/supporting myself. I still feel like a boy, though legally I’m a man. I haven’t had a bar mitzvah. That could be why, of course.

I don’t know. This whole discussion could be purely academic. I think my loneliness is becoming intellectual. I can’t merely want girls. I have to analyze the cores of their being as a gender. This is stupid. I could go out and meet girls and figure them out that way. Yeah. That’s a good idea. Catch you later, brah.

Love and kisses,

Andrew