Dress Sense

An article in yesterday’s Metro, the freebie paper handed out at bus tops and railway stations all over Dublin (they’d have it at Metro stops too, except we don’t have any) revealed that men take thirteen minutes to get dressed to go out, whereas women take only ten. The following may explain why ….

Woman: “I’m going to get changed now .”

Man (watching football on TV) “Ok, love.” (Total length of conversation: 3 seconds).

Woman goes upstairs (30 seconds, though that’s a guess, since I live in a bungalow), takes off the clothes that she is wearing (30 seconds), takes from the wardrobe the dress that she decided on five days earlier (5 seconds) and slips it on over her head (5 seconds). Tries to reach behind her back to zip herself up (45 seconds), considers calling Man, but hears roar from downstairs (“Jesus, ref, penalty!”) and decides not to bother . Resumes her struggle with the zip, which she finally manages to get up (4 minutes). Does that thing where she inches the lower half of her dress down towards her knees by tugging at various parts of it, as if she was putting a pillow-case on a pillow (3 minutes). Looks at all parts of herself in the mirror via a series of contortions that Houdini would be proud of (20 seconds) and walks back downstairs (30 seconds).

Woman: “How do I look?”

Man (not taking eyes from football): “Great, love.” (Total length of conversation: 2 seconds).

A variation on the last two sentences (Woman: “Does my bum look big in this?” Man: “No“) also takes two seconds, either way bringing the total to ten minutes.

Act two then begins…

Woman: “It’s your turn now.”

Man (still watching football): “Ok, love.” (Continues to watch football).

Woman: “NOW.”

Man (sighing): “What do you want me to wear?”

Woman: “Whatever you like.” (Total length of conversation: 15 seconds).

Man goes upstairs (50 seconds, because he’s walking backwards, still trying to watch the football), takes off the clothes that he is wearing (30 seconds) and roots around in his wardrobe for something to wear (2 minutes). Puts on his favourite rugby shirt and a pair of jeans (30 seconds). Runs back downstairs (5 seconds) to catch the end of the football, which has now been replaced by Grey’s Anatomy.

Woman: “Is that what you’re wearing?”

Man: “Yes.” (Total length of conversation: 2 seconds).

Woman: “Welllll …..” (Total length of the word “well”: 8 seconds).

Man: “You said I could wear what I like.”

Woman: “Yes, but not that.”

Man: “What, then?”

Woman: “Wear your blue shirt. And the tie my mother gave you for Christmas. And those grey trousers. Actually, no, wear your pin-striped suit.”

Man (sarcastically): “Would you like me to wear a top-hat?”

Woman (deaf-to-sarcastically): “Of course not, dear. You don‘t own a top-hat.” (Total time since the word “well”, 50 seconds).

Man goes back upstairs (70 seconds, because he’s trudging), stares in astonishment (for 30 seconds) at the blue shirt, the tie he got for Christmas and the pin-striped suit, all of which are somehow laid out on the bed, although at no time has Woman passed him on the stairs. Takes off rugby shirt and jeans (30 seconds) and dons his appointed wardrobe (5 minutes, because he has to have four goes at getting his tie right, since occasions like this are the only times he wears one). Walks back downstairs (30 seconds).

Woman: “You look lovely, dear.”(2 seconds) Straightens his tie and brushes something invisible off his suit. (8 seconds).

Total time: 13 minutes.

On the bright side, Man did get to choose his own socks, though he mysteriously couldn‘t find his Bart Simpson ones.

And if you’ve checked the additions above, you’ll find that the woman’s time is ten seconds short.

That’s the 10 seconds she spent hiding them.