I’m a Poser
You know me: I have a strong, proud, dimpled chin and a clean lantern jaw; I rarely leave the house less than 48 hours after a shave; I have clear blue eyes which look you right in the eye and seem to say, ‘Hello, it’s autumn. Why don’t you and I take a nice walk in a park somewhere?’; there is usually a faint smile playing on my lips that suggests I’ve had a pleasant thought about ice-cream or perhaps an infant; in my world it’s always the weekend and very often you’ll see blurry horses in the background, leathery mounds of polo gear tossed at my feet, perhaps even a mallet gripped in my large hands (note my fingernails – clipped, squared-off and clean); I like to hang out with other men who are slightly less handsome than me, pointing at things in the far-off distance which no-one else can see …
Hi. I’m a male catalogue model.
You know me: I hook a finger into my jacket and fling it over my shoulder, usually my right one. But recently, instead of my index finger, I’ve been hooking my thumb into the little tag and making a nice fist with my four fingers. It looks better than the claw I am left with if I use my index finger. I borrowed this technique, called the ‘thumb hook technique’, from Jim White, who used to be a male catalogue model like me but went crazy and became a cult musician with a wild look in his eyes that would alarm viewers of most popular catalogues. I have no plans to become a musician. I’m happy being a male catalogue model. It’s nice.
Only very occasionally will you see a wedding ring on my finger; usually only if there’s a pretty – but not gorgeous or sexy – blonde woman nearby, clutching a bouquet of flowers and smiling at me as though I just gave her those flowers, which I may have. If I did, how nice of me. Mostly, though, there’s no wedding ring so it’s safe to assume that I’m unattached, maybe because I’m a widower or maybe for some other reason.
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