Bring sexy back

I love the word "sexy". So many people use "hot" these days, and I miss sexy. Hot seems temporary, like it'll eventually get cold. Sexy is forever; it's a state of mind. And over the years, my state of mind on what's sexy has changed. Some things have gone by the wayside (we had a good run, leather pants), others are in it for the long haul (always lovely to see you, chest hair). I once compared sexy lists with a guy. We had actual, committed-to-paper lists. Admittedly, it was foreplay, and at the time we both hit a lot of the bullet points on each other's. I've tried my damnedest to find that list; I want to compare my late 20s turn-ons to what floats my boat these days. Alas, no dice. Regardless, here's what makes the grade right now.

Facial hair. It's one of the first things I notice. Not moustaches, or stylized chin straps (really?), or a full-on playoff beard, but a little scruff. Maybe because it makes me think about what a guy looks like in the morning, but a little two day stubble is tremendously attractive. Even more so when I've only known the man to be clean-shaven. Clean-shaven is work-appropriate, and neat, and proper, but a little stubble is...not. A few years back, I had a huge hard-on for goatees. I know, I know - they're love 'em or hate 'em. I loved 'em more than I can say. And yes, probably for the reasons you're thinking.

A guy who can cook, at least a little. He doesn't have to be all Iron Chef and make a béarnaise sauce or anything, but a little self-sufficiency beyond a can opener is good. Otherwise, I'll assume he's just used to his momma doing it, and Momma's boys will NEVER be sexy to me. See also: ironing, doing dishes, knowing that whites and colours are done separately. Put a man in a kitchen, give him a knife, a sauté pan and a couple cloves of garlic, and I guarantee you I'll want to make out with him. Which I realize can be dangerous near a hot stove.

A guy who can drive well. I think this is pretty self-explanatory, but for those of you just hitting puberty, here's the deal: he has a powerful machine under him. He controls it with a few deft moves of his hands. Sometimes there's shifting. There's this whole stance a confident man assumes when he's in the driver's seat that kind of makes me giddy. Bonus points if he keeps his hand on my leg between shifting.

A guy who can wear the shit out of a pair of jeans. A well-cut suit and a tie with a dash of pizzazz is always nice, but I've always been more of a casual girl (boy, is that last part a loaded statement). I appreciate jeans, maybe a sweater or a long sleeved t-shirt, and a bit of jewellery (leather cuff, nice watch - something that draws attention to his hands) far more than fine tailoring. The exception? End of day, tie off, cuffs rolled, a couple buttons undone. My equivalent of sexy librarian. And a guy who wears an actual coat, not a windbreaker or a parka, with a cool scarf? Consider yourself eye-fucked. What's up, guy at Chapters last weekend?

I can't talk about what's sexy without the obvious physical stuff. Sure, there are the easily noticed things I like - at least 6 inches taller than me (not hard), nice hands, broad shoulders, an easy laugh. But let's face it: a lot of the really good stuff is hidden until at least the second date (used to be the third, but I'm trying to be more efficient). That vein in the forearm that just doesn't show up on girls (except maybe Madonna). The aforementioned chest hair. I know some women dislike it, but to me chest hair equals grown-up. Masculine. And it feels awesome. A smooth back (more rare than you might think). A scar or two. Not "Music of the Night" territory, but a little flaw that hints at a life lived, a story to tell. Soft lips. Ideally, soft medium to full lips, or at least the lower lip. Really thin lips are like kissing my hand for practice. Not that I've done that. Much.

A guy who doesn't always ask before he kisses you. Calm down; I'm not talking about a guy you don't want kissing you. I'm talking about my living room, second bottle of wine, it's getting late. Hint: if I've opened the second bottle, or if I've said yes when you offered to, you don't need to ask if you can kiss me. If my feet are on the couch pointing towards you, you don't need to ask if you can kiss me. If I've touched my throat or neck several times, see above. Reading my body language, and doing something about it, is sexy. More men need to trust their instincts in these situations. If you're on my couch, and I've either a) lit some candles or b) put on a movie with a racy sex scene, consider yourself cleared for takeoff.

I know there are all these theories about how a man dances and his prowess in bed. I don't believe it's always a good indicator; I saw a lot of dancing in the mid to late 80s, and yet I still chose to become sexually active. Besides, how many people actually dance anymore? You know what, for me, is a much better indicator? His curiousity. Curiousity might be the sexiest thing of all. My brain is a huge fan of foreplay, and I've found that a man who's curious about the world, and about his role in it, will be curious about other things. Second or possibly third date things.

There are many levels of sexy, and sometimes someone who starts off sexy can quickly become not, or vice versa. A guy I immediately disliked upon first impression turned out to be one of the sexiest men I've ever known. And the guy whose sexiness hit me like a ton of bricks turned out to be kind of a tool. Of course, there are some incredibly sexy things you can only discover about a man after you've taken him to bed. I'll save those for another time, since leaving you wanting more is always sexy.