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Jumpin' Hoops

The new woman is spoilt for choice, her chameleon man at her service

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He doesn’t get frightened by the word ‘marriage’ or whatever they call it nowadays. Because he gets dumped all the time, he actually relishes the idea of boasting a long-term love interest (so he can do the dumping for a change). At least, that way he proves he has staying power (ahem!). India is being wooed by the mightiest of all world powers and power is such an aphrodisiac. Where’s my botox!

Having been kicked out of every target audience Venn diagram, we over-40 women can only sigh at the spectre of opportunities lost. Ambition is the bedrock of growth and success. And it’s easiest with the new man because he’s trying so hard, harder than his dad, why, even his elder brother, because marketing parameters for this lovely man change every few months and he’s breathlessly keeping up with brand attributes. And his customers (read far too self-assured women who don’t even need him to go out for a drink, if he’s not interesting enough) are so dismissive of any man who doesn’t meet their exalted standards thatTNM (the new man) is under threat of being rendered irrelevant. Oops, forgot the sex bit, but we’ll get to that later.

So what does he do? Well, he decides that like MS Office 95, 97, ’05 he needs regular upgrades to keep his target audience enticed (they might get bored, succumb to the hype of a competitor). Or worse, leave him forever to deal with rejection. That’s the key. Fear of rejection.

With so much opportunity around (after all New India is about kids having sex on MMS, positioning ourselves favourably in all things bed and wild),TNM can’t let the world pass him by. And to make himself attractive to potential consumers, he packages himself to define the the mood of the moment.

So what is she looking for? Caring and sensitive. He washes, cooks, cleans, occasionally cries and doesn’t mention his Ma. Dark and brooding? There’s the leather jacket, Smirnoff nights and silk scarves by the bed. Conscientious? He’ll talk trees, environment, chucks the cigarette and sorts out the garbage between biodegradable and not. Intelligent and informed? Well, you know what’s happening in Iraq. So what am I saying? That the new man is a phoney? Au contraire cherie, he is very genuine in his intentions, which can be anything from a quick swing-by at night or something long-term. The bogus bit is in how he happily plays to the girlie gallery to get his just rewards.

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Because he’s tired of dealing with all the bad press...thanks to that "i am a man!" ’70s guy, that dinosaur of a chauvinist, who forever ruined his brand image, making women still suspiciously scratch beneath the surface to check how deep this new persona is. And that’s whereTNM thought smart, began to be like a brand-builder. Of course I am a man, that’s bloody obvious! I’m a new man.

He studied his customers, understood the need of the moment, plucked the right terminology and found the evidence to go with it. Like her orgasm-faking, displaying pleasure instead of feeling it, he too demonstrates all attributes without meaning any of it. That’s why you can’t hold on to him—because he may need to change again to that latest version. He goes metro before going retro and in between he colours his hair, shapes his cuticles, tosses the farfel (yup he know all the 18 kinds and can spell them too!) and fingers red ties and tells you about permanent hair removal like a close friend. And the women melt and go "Awww!" Hook, line, sinker. He’s lovely, this new man. But is he for real?

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(The author is head, communications, British Council)

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