Both of my boys are Metrosexual. They come by it honestly, as Spouse is also Metrosexual. (Well, selectively so. He has his (man) cave-dweller moments.)
I actually enjoy shopping with the 12 year-old. He always manages to locate just the right jewelry piece for me, and, usually, it is on clearance. He inherited that talent from me, but it's nice to have another me shopping with me - if that makes sense. Four hands operated by two essentially identical brains, sifting through the clearance pile, you know?
Anyway, both boys are good about helping me with wardrobe concepts ("Lose the necklace, Mom, and add a dangly earring"), and they have strong - and consistently good - opinions about home decor.
But the 12 year-old blew me away the other day when I showed him some bedding for his room that had a geometric pattern in dark gray and a gold-ish, sort of egg-yolk-y yellow. I was prepared to have to fight for it: "It will pull out the colors in your walls and furniture, and check out this cool appliqued Beatles pillow that I found to coordinate." (The Beatles pillow was my ace in the hole, because not only was it cool-looking, I was going to actually have to ship it from Great Britain, which would turn the coolness factor up to 11.)
He cut me off: "No, I get it. I like it. I like the fact that the circles aren't perfect circles . . . they are . . ."
"Exactly. You know what would look good next to that? An egg chair."
"You know, an EGG CHAIR."
Yes, I know what an egg chair is. I'm just surprised that YOU know what an egg chair is. And, also, that you want one.
"Mom, the egg chair is a classic. It never goes out of style."
This is what happens when an 8-crayon boy who nevertheless inherited Metrosexual tendencies from his father marries a 64-crayon girl. MIDDLE SCHOOL BOY DESIGN SKILLS ON 11 . . . .