He Is So GQ...

GQ stands for Gentlemen Quarterly…just in case you didn’t know.

It's a great magazine.

Also, used to describe a guy who is dressed nicely, very sleek, and/or very sexy to the ladies.

 

By this definition, he is all that…and omg so much more!

 

Tripp had a birthday and while we were unable to make face time, I did help him shop for “somethings nice” via email and phone.  He deserves nice things and having a birthday is the perfect “excuse” to buy a gift for one self.  I’ll skip over the whole part of the story as to the why he was buying his own present. That is not my story to tell.

 

It started with him mentioning his blue work shirt getting a little ragged and where he was at (he was spending his birthday essentially running errands since we couldn’t have Hooky Day for his birthday).  That was really all the opening I needed, since he freely admits he is a style-tard.  LOL!  We had have similar conversation so it’s not like this was startling news to him coming from me. 

 

Don’t get me wrong, it is not the clothes that make the man—but he has been letting his wife shop for him for entirely too long and she has some stupid  interest in him NOT looking his best--in my humble opinion.  He is a very attractive man (would you expect less of me??) but most, if not all (granted, I haven’t seen them all), of his shirts were ill-fitted.  It didn’t really matter all that much to me, but I knew the diamond-in-the-rough I had in my hands.

 

So, when he got to where he was going after the other errands, I sent him some links to the shirts I thought he should get.  And told him, no…instructed him to utilize the clerks there to get a properly sized shirt and to look at nothing that wasn’t labeled “tailored” or slim fit.  He, being the obidien…uhhhh…I mean smart man that he is, listened to me.  Never mind that I threatened to “cut him off” and that the love train would not be stopping at our usual hotel—its an idle threat at best—why would I punish myself just to make a point??  He believed it, and that’s all that matters.

 

Side note—it still makes me giggle when he tells me the associate measuring him for a proper fit commented that he had a huge wingspan.  I personally likened it to a pterodactyl’s, and maybe possibly even threw in a Big Bird reference or two.  He’s not ill proportioned at all—he is just very tall. ( He’s lean, and mean—haha…and sexy as hell I might add…just sayin’…).

 

Anyhow—he emailed me a picture of him in said new shirt and the cufflinks he picked out all on his own.  Just….holyhellwow!!!  I told him maybe I sympathized a little with his lack of proper brain function properly when he first sees me (hah—as if it is just when he first sees me…) because it suddenly got a lot warmer in my universe.  I even told him I thought maybe I needed a fan.  I was literally fanning myself when I looked at the picture. 

 

Fine!  Stared at it for entirely too long to be polite.  Shut up!

 

The next day we were able to get together (alas, only for lunch) he wore the new shirt and cufflinks.  And I gotta say, he could sooooo be a player if that was his personality type.  Thank God its not because then I’d have to, you know…kill him or something.  LOL! So kidding—we’d never have made it so far for so long if he were at all like that.  He looked absolutely tempting and gorgeous and yummy and oh why the hell does the universe taunt me with lunch only?!?!?!

 

And he told me, almost astonished-like, that his boss commented on him not liking that Tripp was dressed better than ol’ bossman.  Like I’d dress my man in ugly clothes or something.  Properly fitted clothes DO make a difference. 

 

Nothing like a little ego-boost from a less than interested person to bolster my insistence that he is hot stuff... We determined adding new wardrobe items would best be a long and slow process just to minimize red flags going up.

…And a last little bit of amusement (at least to me): His wife spent a little time online showing him shirts she thought he should get, which were the same kind of ill-fitted shirts she's been buying him for years.  She also asked, after seeing him in his newly self-purchased shirt (with others to be coming in the mail), “Do you have a girlfriend I need to know about?” 

 

Hey—of course he said no—she gave him the out by asking if she needed to know about me.

 

I think we can all agree, semantics aside, that she REALLY has no need to know about me.

 

Just sayin’….