New York Fashion Week’s finally over, which means the women of Manhattan can stop sucking in, everyone can start nursing their event hangovers, and Miss Wingman can once again walk down the street without feeling like an oompa loompa in a sea of beautiful, leggy amazons.

For the guys, some of you may be wondering what men’s trends came out of the model melee (um, in between watching NFL games and postseason baseball, obviously.) So, just in case you gentlemen were thinking of taking some fashion risks with your Spring/Summer 2014 looks, you might want to think twice before you try out these emerging trends.

Not because the designers aren’t all talented in their own rights, but because they’re not creating clothing for straight men looking to attract hetero females.

Or not-so hetero, whatever you’re into.

Thus, here are the 8 worst men’s Fashion Week trends to avoid, if you value your sex life. Because yes, every girl is crazy about a sharp dressed man, but this shit is ridiculous.

Giovanni Giannoni/WWD

Giovanni Giannoni/WWD

Giovanni Giannoni/WWD

Giovanni Giannoni/WWD

Patterned suits. If you believe people like Mark McNairy (who I normally love, sigh..) and designer Libertine, the louder the better. But if you believe the rest of the female population, we wouldn’t be caught dead walking alongside you in this.

Giovanni Giannoni/WWD

Giovanni Giannoni/WWD

Or this, for that matter. Shorter fabric on the legs doesn’t make it any less visually offensive or vagina repellent, sorry. And while we’re on McNairy, this other runway masterpiece…

Giovanni Giannoni/WWD

Giovanni Giannoni/WWD

Head to toe camouflage. To be fair, I’m not anti-camo. But I am anti- guys dressing like a Navy SEAL lying in a remote swamp waiting to put down a guerilla insurgency. This is far from acceptable streetwear. On the upside, you won’t get made fun of because no one will be able to see you. But on the downside, women will think you’re an extra from “Tropic Thunder.”



Giovanni Giannoni/WWD

Giovanni Giannoni/WWD

Iridescent metallics. Unless you work at a futuristic, sci-fi themed restaurant and are forced to accessorize this with an alien head mask, there is no earthly reason (zing!) to rock this look. On any planet.

Thomas Iannaccone/WWD

Thomas Iannaccone/WWD

Bold pants. Remember the color bars that come on during a network TV outage? Yeah, so does designer Jeremy Scott. But sorry bro, they don’t look so hot wrapped around your glutes. (Or with a mesh shirt and Flock of Seagulls hairdo, for that matter. Scratch that – a Flock of Seagulls hairdo is EXACTLY what you’d be expected to wear along with those pants.)

Sure, we all loved the circus as kids, but no need to bring the Big Top back in your trouser selection. And yes, I just said “trousers.” Because I’m geriatric.

Giovanni Giannoni/WWD

Giovanni Giannoni/WWD

The “Pants? Who needs ‘em!” look. But don’t make the mistake of being so worried about ugly pants that you forego them altogether. Because seriously, man. Put some f**king pants on.

Thomas Iannaccone/WWD

Thomas Iannaccone/WWD

But not if they look like this. Sure, dudes can wear pink. If Mark Sanchez can rock a headband, guys can certainly wear pink. What they can’t do, however, is don patent leather pants with a matching patent leather jacket. In any color. In public. Ever.

Giovanni Giannoni/WWD

Giovanni Giannoni/WWD

And lastly, whatever the f**k this is.

Maybe it’s because it’s a stenciled tunic. Or possibly, because it resembles pajamas. But whatever Libertine’s calling it, women definitely won’t want to crawl into bed with you if you wear it. But they might want to borrow your necklace.DAPPER WINGMAN

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Far be it from me to jump on the Internet trolling bandwagon, but there’s a story that bears commenting on – nay, correcting. In case you haven’t seen NY Magazine’s “Confessions Of A Serial Cheater (Who’s About To Get Married)” because it didn’t come wrapped in a blanket and carried by two royals, here’s what you missed:

Guy admits to cheating in all but one of his relationships. Guy explains how he went about cheating on his current fiancee with over 20 women. Promises he’d never cheat on a spouse or if kids were involved. Says he’s done with philandering since putting a ring on it. World freaks out. The end.

But here’s the thing: no one should be surprised by this story. Not because he’s not a Grade A, Certified D-bag, but because he didn’t say anything especially shocking. In fact, I’d have been more impressed if the serial cheater in question was female. That’s a story.

But it got me to thinking…. If it was a chick doing the bed hopping, and PS, the stuff I’m privy to hearing as a relationship writer would f**king shock you – women are more than capable of it – what might she have done differently?

So, I give you 4 solid reasons why shady ass women make better cheaters than men.

Exploiting the handicap. For some reason, dudes of the world have it in their heads that women are less sexual, therefore incapable of having detached, emotionless flings (“sport f**king,” if you will). This may be true for the majority of women, but for women with loose morals and a healthy libido, the She’d-Never-Do-That mentality coupled with a bottomless supply of men ready to bump uglies means it’s pretty much open season.

We rationalize better. Ever heard a woman justify buying a handbag that costs half her paycheck? Yeah. Broads can talk our way out of anything.

Also, we’d never rely on a bullshit excuse like “there’s such thing as respectful infidelity,” like the dude in the article. No there isn’t, dick. Cheating is fundamentally disrespectful, even if you don’t spend the night or go downtown on any of your conquests.



You know what there is such a thing as, though? Being a total puss. And not being able to sac up and admit your indiscretions before you walk down the aisle so that she can decide whether she still wants to take that stroll with you is a b***h move, bro.

Whistle blowers. Whereas guys are more apt to cover up their buddy’s cheating or keep silent, women would only be able to tolerate such skank-tastic behavior for so long before we got all judge-y and blew up their spot.

I’m not saying that the cheater wouldn’t deserve a public flogging, I’m just saying that women are judgmental as all hell. Fear of being shamed by our female peers or branded a slut (a HUGE double standard, if I might add) would be enough to make her the stealthiest cheater on planet earth. There’d be no trace evidence. And finally…

Because your guard is down. Women – even evolved, sane women – are perpetually on the lookout for infidelity, or for b****es trying to roll up on their man. Even if they generally trust their boyfriend, fiancee or husband, it’s other women they don’t trust. Guys, on the other hand, don’t default to DEFCON 1 paranoia levels, so we’d have to be pretty careless for you to catch on.

Plus, all it takes is for her to tell you she was at a book club/yoga class/discussing “The Bachelorette” with friends over drinks and you’d be so desperate to not hear the recap that you wouldn’t even question the alibi. It’s as simple (and sad) as that.

So the next time people want to wax self-righteous about cheating, we’d do well to remind ourselves that yes, it is despicable, but the serial infidelity door can swing both ways. It’s just way more likely to come back and hit you in the face than it is us.THAT’S WHAT SHE SAID

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They say only two things in life are guaranteed. No, not that every Kardashian will get their own reality spinoff and that Miley Cyrus will end up working the pole – but those are strong bets, too. Nay! Death and taxes, gentlemen. That’s what you have to look forward to (incidentally, I probably won’t drink to that).

But now that your tax return has been filed (or at least it should’ve been, slacker), you may be asking yourself, “What should I do with all of that cheddar Uncle Sam will be tossing my way?”

Wait, what’s that you say? You owe the government money? Ha, well then sucks to be you. All the rest of us poverty-stricken kids get rewarded for our beggared lives by being handed back a portion of our meager pittance wages. Income? What’s that?

But even if your tax return was in the negative this year, you can still partake in the fun suggested below. It’ll just have to be out of pocket. Um, and feel free to spot the rest of us a couple bucks, while you’re at it.

I give you The Top 5 Ways To Blow Your Tax Return Dollars… (other than hookers and blow, obvi). Because saving is for suckers, y’all.

5) Take her to dinner. The Federal Treasury doesn’t need to have coughed up a boatload of cash for you to wine and dine your dame du jour on the government’s dime. I’ll bet that here are plenty of moderately priced little gems hidden throughout your city. If you happen to live in NYC, one such place is west village standout Buvette. From the oh-my-god-you-have-to-taste-this dishes (mostly small plates, but still) to the cozy decor (a garden space, score!), this French-inspired gastroteque will leave you swooning. And, more importantly, her.

4) Treat yourself to tickets. Sporting events and live music are Miss Wingman’s favorite  luxury indulgences. Well, that and Chanel…but we’ll keep it simple, boys. Whether you prefer just behind the dugout, or floor seats for your favorite band, nothing breaks up your usual routine like skipping the bar scene for a night. Or three. It is festival season, after all. Plus, you might get lucky and score seats next to a stunner – you never know.

If you live in NYC, artists like Fun., Bon Jovi, Jay-Z and Justin Timberlake will be playing outdoor shows this summer. Plus there’s always a Yankee game (or that other team, what’s their name again?) And if you live in another city, like Boston, check your local Time Out listings.

3) Score some new clothes. Some what? You know, that sh*t that you pull on over your limbs every day? That stuff’s supposed to be coordinated in a stylish, deliberate way, just in case no one told you. I know, guys hate shopping. But you just have to find your one vice to make it fun (sneakers? Italian suits? accessories? it all works – except brocelets). If you’re looking for a new go-to spot in lower Manhattan, check out Soho’s Carson Street Clothiers.

Sartorially savvy dudes know that this uber-hip (but not hipster d-bag) menswear boutique is where guy’s guys can go to find everything from on-site tailoring, to Blind Barber grooming products (not to mention kicks and shades in every style). Boasting their own private label as well as designers like Michael Bastian, Ian Velardi, Inis Meain, Mark McNairy and Ovadia & Sons (seriously, learn those names, please), Carson Street Clothiers should be on every man’s radar – and Amex statement.

2) Get outta town. Summer Friday’s are so close we can almost taste them. So why not plan a quickie getaway while the weather’s warm? Spots like Shelter Island’s Rams Head Inn and Rhinebeck’s quaint and historic Beekman Arms provide the perfect reasonably priced change of scenery within a manageable drive of the city. That’s New York City – the only one that matters, duh.

And finally…

1) Give back. But not to the government! OK fine, so I’ve already emphasized the importance (not to mention sexiness factor) of dudes who volunteer and give to charity, but just hear me out. If you find yourself with a small cash infusion (and some equally resourceful friends), you can channel something you’re interested in into something that helps the greater good.

Case in point? Beastie Boys badass Mike D and his Rockaway Plate Lunch Truck project. Launched in response to Hurricane Sandy’s devastation, Diamond and his hospitality industry buddies decided to pay homage to this beloved surf spot by feeding hot food to those who were out there helping to fix it up.

All it took was some initial paper (that’s where your tax return comes in, fellas), a good idea (seriously, who doesn’t love food trucks?!) and a desire to better the situation of those volunteers and residents left powerless and hungry while digging the beach – and their homes – out of the wreckage. Not to mention donations of food, time and manpower by Diamond and his restauranteur crew.

They’ve served up more than 19,000 free meals since the storm to appreciative, determined people. And since Mike D is who he is (read: my favorite), he can’t stop – won’t stop – and neither will they. Now if that doesn’t inspire you, I don’t know what will.THAT’S WHAT SHE SAID

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Whoever said that all’s fair in love and war had obviously never been on the losing end of a fight with a woman. We sulk, we take passive aggressive digs, and sometimes we flat out refuse to admit that we’re wrong.

But sometimes we aren’t wrong. Sometimes you’re wrong, boys. And the only way to determine who the exculpatory party is vs. the One Who Eff’d Up is to allow a jury of your peers to decide. Or at least, an uninvolved and impartial party, such as yours truly.

That’s why Miss Wingman created the “Am I Wrong?” feature, to give dudes a platform to plead your case when you feel wrongly blamed by a female sparring partner. And it’s my pleasure to bring you an all new edition of the blame game, courtesy of Paul in Ohio.

The set up: Paul, our friendly protagonist (or antagonist, it’s yet to be determined), has been dating his girlfriend Harriet for a little more than a year. They do not live together, mostly for “practical” reasons that involve Harriet needing to live on-site at her counseling job, and her apartment not feasibly accommodating two people. But they have had several conversations regarding their future and believe each other to be “the One.”

The argument: “About two weeks ago, I was out shopping with my girlfriend of nearly 18 months. We were walking in an area rife with jewelry stores, so I decided to see if she wanted to pop into one of them and ‘take a look around.’ Obviously I meant to check out engagement rings. She hesitated for a second, but after giving me a weird look, agreed.

We spoke to a very nice sales lady who showed my girlfriend several different shapes and cuts of diamonds. After trying on about five, she settled upon a square-looking one, which I guess you girls call a “princess” cut. We thanked the woman for her time, left the store without purchasing anything (it was just meant as an info-gathering mission on my end) and went home.

But as soon as we were home, she started acting upset. When I pressed her on it, she admitted that she was really disappointed that we’d just gone ‘engagement ring shopping.’ I told her that no, we hadn’t gone engagement ring shopping, we’d gone engagement ring browsing, and that the shopping was something I’d be doing solo one day in the future.

She said it didn’t matter, that now she knew it was coming, and that the surprise she would feel from the proposal was ruined in her mind. She’d wanted me to run my own recon mission to find out her design preferences without her knowing so that it would be a complete shock when I finally asked. I told her that she still wouldn’t know when I was doing it or how, but no matter what I said, she was still bummed out over the whole thing.

I’d only intended to get her input on what style she preferred and maybe get a ring size while I was at it, hell – I have no clue what girls like  – but she said that if I really knew her well enough, I’d know what her style was. I disagree, we could be dating 10 years and I’d still not know whether she wanted a round, princess, or a goddamn triangle for that matter. But apparently, I’ve somehow messed the whole thing up?

It’s not like we fought or yelled, it was just hearing her tell me that I’d ‘ruined’ the engagement surprise she’d been looking forward to her whole life that made me feel like a huge jerk. So, Miss Wingman, tell me – am I wrong? Am I the idiot, or is she overreacting?”

The verdict: Yikes. And also, sucks to be you, Paul. Not to mention, is that really your girlfriend’s name? Man, I didn’t know people were still naming their kids Harriet after, like, 1935. What the hell are her sisters names, Edith and Muriel? Sorry, just took me a minute to get past that… But the answer to your question, if I’m being serious, is in reality probably a little blame on both sides. And here’s why…

You were just trying to be a conscientious boyfriend, to be as considerate as possible. I get that. You did what you thought was the logical thing, so as not to have her smile through gritted teeth when you snapped open the box to a ring that was decidedly not her (and that she’d have to stare at for the next, oh, say, 40 or 50 years). If “Sex and the City” taught men nothing else, it should be to fear the “ugly ring” conversation. (Hey, don’t blame me, blame Carrie Bradshaw).

But even though you were just covering your bases, what you didn’t realize is that, for a lot of women, the idea of being proposed to is something we daydream about since we’re little. No, strike that. Not most women. All women. Even me, who hates the idea of all things girly and fairytale-esque, and who couldn’t care less about floral arrangements or picking out dresses. And why do we fantasize and wonder about our proposal? Because it’s a big frigging deal, that’s why.

The idea of asking someone to forsake all others and devote themselves to you every day until they die is kind of a tall order, don’t you think? So forgive us if, even if we aren’t interested in any JumboTron or sky diving antics being involved, we want your proposal to be as special as humanly possible. And that, in our minds, involves the element of surprise. (Not to mention some seriously heartfelt words. Don’t forget the sentiment, gentlemen).

On the other hand, while I can sympathize with your girlfriend’s disappointment – unintended though it may be – I think she needs to accept the fact that she was giving you entirely too much credit. I’ve come to learn that women have a grossly overestimated view of how much guys really know about engagement rings. I know we all assume that you’ll just hijack one of our own rings for sizing, enlist the covert help of our inner circle and embark on some stealth shopping mission armed with your own innate knowledge of clarity and carat size, but in real life? That shizz ain’t happenin’.

I’ve actually had girls tell me that their boyfriends contemplated buying them a heart-shaped ring, because, you know, all girls like hearts and shiny things. Don’t they?

Hahaha. Wait…hahahaha. No judgment intended, boys, but that just confirms how little you know about our tastes (and rightfully so). Also, if you’re dating the kind of girl who actually would like such a thing, RUN. Or else you have a lifetime of rose-colored furniture and floral bedding to look forward to.

So the takeaway from all of this is that yes, she has every right to feel a pang of disappointment from thinking the element of surprise is somewhat tainted. But no, that doesn’t give her the right to tell you that to your face and make you feel guilty. You were only being pragmatic and (you thought) considerate, you intended no harm.

Granted, you can’t undo the incident, but what you can do is make sure that, on the day that you finally do pop the question, that she knows exactly what she’s meant to your life and how much you love her. Speak from the heart and I promise you, all prior tipping of the cards will be forgiven.

As for the rest of you, until next time, keep sending me your issues, and I’ll keep giving it to you straight, honest, and completely unfiltered. Just the way I like my men, but that’s a post for another time. Good luck, fight fair, and remember to keep your head (and your dukes) up.THAT’S WHAT SHE SAID

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Happy Monday, Wingman faithful. And since I’m a Georgetown fan, I use the word “happy” loosely.

I don’t care how many people are writing about the next big Cinderella story today, I still say “Suck it, FGCU.”

If you’re like me, you spent the weekend watching the tourney elevate men to kings, and then dash those empires to the ground almost as quickly as they rose. It’s been an emotional few days and frankly, I’m exhausted. But it got me to thinking…

Are guys usually graceful losers? Is there really a way to take the art of rejection like a man?

Eh, it depends on who the unlucky party is, but I suspect that some of you need a lesson on losing with class. From striking out with the ladies, to losing your job, to sports upsets of all kinds, failure can be a fickle beast. But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t maintain your dignity (and your composure). So pull up a chair, boys, because class is now in session. And this time, the only grade on your report card that matters is an F.

I give you How To Lose Like A Man:

*Assess the situation. How bad is it? On a scale of 1 to 10, with 1 being getting brushed off by that blonde at the bar, and 10 being a game 7 upset in the 2004 World Series (from the perspective of a Yankees fan, obviously), where does it fall? If it’s above a 6, the requisite pouting-slash-bitter grumbling is allowed, sulk away my friend. Only for a little while, though. But if it’s just a minor ego bruise, put it in perspective and walk it off, man.

I understand that in matters of financial ruin, impending legal action or jilted love – being left at the altar must suck, I’ll give you that – the stakes are a bit higher. But try to remember that there will always be an upswing. Turn to your friends, faith, vodka, whatever. Just do what you have to in order to white-knuckle through it, and I promise you’ll make it out alive.

*Know when to take “No” for an answer. If we’re talking about your garden variety date proposition or failure to get a woman’s digits, sometimes persistence is key. I’ve known couples who started out as a relentless guy and a girl who eventually gave him a chance once he wore her down. And yes, those happy endings are possible, so long as you stay on the right side of the law.

But there are also times when you should bow out gracefully. Did you get passed over for a promotion? Ouch. But throwing a hissy fit will only ensure that you lose the job you do have. Has she moved on to someone else and told you that she’s finally happy? Brutal, but give her the courtesy of closure.

There’s a fine line between fighting for what you want, and disregarding someone else’s wishes (Steubenville, anyone?) And no, silence should never be confused with compliance. D*cks.

*Be a class act. As much as it might kill you, being the bigger man is always key. Even if you were a stand up guy for 99% of the time, if you punk out in the home stretch, whatever legacy you created for yourself will likely be ruined. And who wants to taint their own reputation? Resorting to cheap shots, cutting remarks or tantrums of any kind is never the answer.

Plus, recognize that your setback could be someone else’s moment for glory. And even if it is, that doesn’t mean you won’t get your turn one day, too. Would it suck to be John Stockton to Jordan’s game 6? Absolutely. (Or Eisley, for that matter, and suck is an understatement). But should you begrudge somebody their moment in the sun? No. Because A) It’ll make your own accomplishment that much sweeter and more appreciated one day and B) You know what they say about karma.

And finally…

*Crying Is not an option. I’ve made my beliefs on the Man Cry clear before, but just in case you need a reminder… Allow me to extol the virtues of just sucking it up once more. Sure, the relationship between chicks and your waterworks is a tricky one, boys, but in regards to sports? No such ambiguity. I leave you with the sore loser gospel according to Tom Hanks, even though I’m making a one-time exception and repeating a clip I’ve previously posted. Why? Because it’s a classic. And also, because the man has a point.ETIQUETTE WINGMAN

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I hear it all the time. “Why do women only like jerks?”

It’s the battle cry of nice guys everywhere lamenting their sweetness stigma. Treat a girl like gold and she walks all over you. She loses interest. She tells her friends she’s just not that into you. Make yourself inaccessible, mysterious and aloof, and BAM! She’s all over you. Ignore us and we’re giddy, be a player and we drool. It defies logic. It sucks. And also, it’s mostly your fault.

There’s a difference between being a good guy and being a Nice Guy. Good guys are decent, know they can get laid by other women, but still choose to be with us (swoon). Nice Guys don’t exude the confidence we look for telling us that they’re a catch. Nice guys put it all out there too soon, don’t leave us with anything more to learn about you down the line, and usually go home alone. But it doesn’t have to be that way.

In order to determine the exact right equation for precisely how much Jerk + Nice Guy = You Getting The Girl, first we have to start with the basics, boys. And that all centers around one indisputable fact: There are two kinds of women out there. Those that have learned-slash-matured, and those that haven’t yet.

In the spirit of female camaraderie, I’ll add this disclaimer…No judgment regarding the latter group. None whatsoever. It’s just that whether your nice guy ways bore us or bait us has everything to do with what side of the invisible line that divides every female’s dating life we happen to be on.

In the simplest of terms, it’s not you, it’s us.

When we’re younger, we love the chase. The “Does he or doesn’t he like me?” intrigue. The sick challenge of whether we can be the one to capture your full attention and reform you, or whether you’ll cling to your bad boy ways. Let’s face it, broads dig the drama. (I know, I know, we suck). But at some point, whether it’s in our late 20s, early 30s, or just after we’ve endured one too many crying sessions, we throw in the towel and put both feet over the line.

From then on, if you dog us, lead us on or just don’t appreciate what we have to offer, you’re dead where you stand. Dating roadkill, it’s true. You can be as much of a nice guy as you’d like, because we’ll just keep lapping up how fantastic a guy you are, lucky for us. We’ll never look back or stop to pine away over the jerks in our rear view mirror. The trick is knowing which side of the line the girl you’re into is on, and only you can be the judge of that.

But then, most of you won’t encounter this evolved type of girl in your daily dating lives anyway. Unless you were born before 1985. So for those of you still dabbling in the former group, here’s what you need to know about mastering the nice guy handicap.

*Always start out nice. When first we encounter you, be on your best behavior. Seem engaged in our conversation, interested in our company, and generally just be yourself. We need this initial reassurance to want to pursue something romantic. Then after you’ve gotten our attention, you can always dial back on the good guy routine.

*Be available, but not too available. There’s a fine line between making us feel like a priority, and making us feel like the only thing you have going on in your life. When planning a date, get at least one face-to-face in the books. This gives us just enough of a sense of who you are to get us hooked. But the next time we try to arrange a meet up? Be busy. Tell us you’ve got a work thing, you’ve got a friend’s dinner, whatever. Then suggest another day, perhaps next week.

Just leave us anxiously waiting to see you again (but not for too long), so that when we finally do, we’re excited. Try to always leave us wanting more. And it wouldn’t hurt to be the first one to call it a night, either.

*Remember the big things, like what our siblings’ names are, but forget the little things - like how we went to a wedding last weekend out of town. Oh, you did? Oh I hadn’t even noticed that we didn’t speak, I was too busy having a fun weekend with my friends. Oh right, you did say something about that. It’s not like I was sitting around wondering how many of the groom’s single friends you were dancing with and when you’d be back home or anything…

Repeat after me, boys. Play. It. Cool.

*Text, don’t call AT FIRST. But after you’ve hooked up? Call, don’t text. This shows you respect us. Also, ask us about our day when we do speak. It shows that you care what’s going on in our world. But make sure to space those calls out, and let us be surprised to hear from you when we do. Absence makes the heart grow fonder. Also, it makes us wonder what the hell you’re up to or if you’re thinking about us, too.

*Introduce us to your best friend, but make sure we see that your other friends (read: female “friends”) are an active presence on your Facebook page. Women always want what other women covet, and your appeal will skyrocket if you seem like there are other prospects circling you, too.

*This goes double for your phone and our perception of your dating life. It wouldn’t hurt if you appear to receive a text or two while you’re with us, even if that text was pre-arranged with a buddy or comes in the form of a work email. Allow me to clarify: I don’t want you to actually BE texting other girls or multi-tasking other females at the same time that you’re pursuing us. But it won’t kill us if we wondered if you were. In a non-possessive, psycho way, of course.

Striking the right balance to get us hooked on you is all about figuring out just how much “jerk” to inject into the nice, respectful routine. Not the other way around. I repeat: NOT THE OTHER WAY AROUND. Because in the end, if you’re too much of a prick, i.e. treating us poorly when we’re together, the only girl that’ll be responsive to that is one with fundamental self-esteem issues. She’ll seek your approval because she lacks confidence, and derives much of her worth from other people. Yikes…major yikes.

The girl that lets you be too much of a jerk feeds off of drama, and not to sound like your mother, but you don’t want those girls anyway.

So don’t sweat the nice guy label, unless you’re only in it for the one-and-done hook up. In that case, D-bag away my friend, because tons of women fall for that shiz every day. But it’s beneath you, or at least it should be. The wise man knows when it’s time to grow up.

And hey, there are always outliers. My own personal dating experience strongly rebuffs the conventional wisdom that nice guys finish last, as every one of my ex-boyfriends have been bona fide sweethearts, total gentlemen and nice guys to the core. (Well, not every single one, a bad apple or two may have snuck in, but only by accident). But, I realize that this anomaly is the exception and not the rule, so ignore my penchant for good guys and stick to the advice above.

Whatever you do, recognize that we only get bored when we feel like it’s too easy. And hey – you guys should be familiar with that notion, you’re the ones who perfected it. So keep us guessing, keep us hungry, but keep being (sorta) sweet, too.

Because dating isn’t a sprint, it’s a marathon, and you’ll want to have some nice guy gas left in the tank when we finally step over that line.THAT’S WHAT SHE SAID

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In honor of the Papal Conclave, Miss Wingman thought it only appropriate to do a little clergy-inspired style story of my own. Besides, why should cardinals get all the buzz? Monks can be fun, too.

In case you haven’t heard of the male shoe du jour (actually, it’s been popping up the past few seasons), then clue yourself in to the tasteful alternative to lace-up or loafer dress shoes: the monkstrap.

Image courtesy: GQ

With its roots hailing from European monasteries in the Alps, the story goes that a friar visiting England introduced the strappy style to a larger audience and voila! A cobblers delight was born.

The monkstrap experienced a resurgence when it resurfaced on the runways last year, and now dudes everywhere have been putting their best buckled-foot forward.

But, as in all “Can I Pull This Off?” features, the question remains: How do you, the non-fashion editor, non-male style blogger-type Regular Joe pull off this snazzy look? It’s easy, just follow these three simple steps.

1) Decide which monk best suits your style. One strap or two? For a shoe that’s already pretty formal, the double monkstrap may not be for the fashion faint of heart, but everyone has a preference. Find out which one’s yours.

2) Shop around. There are so many designer variations on the monkstrap, with price points running the gamut from $140 Banana Republic kicks to $1350 for Ralph Lauren Purple Label Narvells, (though I prefer their Obrian Calf monkstraps). Or you could have a little fun and add a hint of wingtip to your toes by opting for Ben Sherman’s Montaigne style.

Image: Thom Browne via Selectism

My personal favorites are Alexander McQueen’s perforated leather monkstraps, Paul Smith’s Fosters (with a bit of fringe!), and the classic Peal & Co. single strap (if double’s not your thing), available at Brooks Brothers. But don’t just take it from me, hit up sites like Polyvore and Mr. Porter to check out brands like A.P.C., Saint Laurent, Mark McNairy and a host of others. Your feet will thank you.

The final and most important thing to consider when contemplating a monkstrap purchase is how to wear them. As in, “do these pants make my ankles look fat?”

Kidding. But seriously, what you pair them with is more than half the battle, and is the key to pulling off this dapper look with ease. The good thing about these monastic mo-fo’s is that they’re versatile. You can wear them with a well-tailored suit or dress them down with some dark-washed or distressed denim and a cardigan. Just make sure the hem is slightly cropped so as not to hide your footwear flair.

Image courtesy: Tumblr

Or, you can even pair them with a double-breasted sports coat, pocket square and chinos, if you’re feeling particularly preppy that day.

Image courtesy: Menstylefashion.com

The important thing is to be mindful of fit. If you’re brave enough to try monkstraps, then you should be undaunted by a cropped and cuffed hem or narrow-legged pant. Add a tie for a little extra polish, or just a casual jacket over a slim-fitting sweater. And if you really want to go full monty, then invest in some striped or bold-hued socks to add a pop of color. They’re like Christmas for your feet.

From friars to frat boys, monkstraps look good on pretty much everyone, so long as they’re executed properly. So wear them with confidence. Wear them with style. And soon enough, you’ll be wearing them religiously.DAPPER WINGMAN

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