While we've been distracted by hipsters with their just-grown beards and bow ties and pastel sweaters, something has snuck up on us in the male tribal landscape: the lumbersexual.
He wears plaid shirts, has an enormous, bushy beard, and stomps around in chunky work boots. He looks like he's about to go and wrestle a bear, but the only thing he'll be wrestling is a Subway sandwich.
Is he really a lumbersexual if he uses tweezers and is particular about where he buys his hummus?
While you'll spot him at the pub enjoying a pint of craft beer, you'll never see him sipping a cocktail between those manly paws. And he wears a beanie all year round, regardless of the fact it's 35 degrees in the shade.
Yes, the lumbersexual aches to live in the woods and be at one with nature, but the closest he gets is Surry Hills, where he loafs about and laments his city lifestyle. He wants a deer's head on the wall and a log cabin to retreat to, but deer heads look too real and all the log cabins he knows have been converted into bars.
See, the lumbersexual just wants to be a man. A man's man, goddamit. And it's no wonder, really, with the assail of the metrosexual seemingly on the increase after all these years.
Spurning the spornosexual
Let's be clear: he likes real sportsmen. Not those spornosexual, Christian Ronaldo-types who parade around in Armani underwear with photoshopped abs and slick hair. He shuns the Ryan Gosling fan brigade and embraces Woody Harrelson on a tooth-missing, paunch-flaunting, burp-farting kind of day. Jared Leto and his man-bun? No thanks.
The lumbersexual is more interested in Bear Grylls because he knows, he's just positive, if given the opportunity to be stranded in the rainforest in Costa Rica, he'd spear catfish like an expert and find a bloody sheepskin to crawl into.
Because the lumbersexual is a survivor. He has lived through all the trends and still come up … a man. Despite heavy peer pressure, he's resisted the urge to metrosexualise. Oh sure, he might have succumbed to moisturiser and prefers to trim his beard with mini scissors in a comfortable bathroom mirror rather than with a ragged hand-made knife, but he won't touch a blowdryer and has never even considered anti-wrinkle injections.
What's puzzling about the lumbersexual is his actual reality. Because he honestly believes that by donning plaid shirts, growing a bushy beard and embracing his masculinity in a number of heavy-booted, superficial ways, he will change his environment, too.
Alas, his reality is still quite urban. Because it's hard to be a lumbersexual in a world filled with convenience.
He secretly likes his deodorant and even has hidden an eye cream in the back of the bathroom cupboard. In front of friends it's all about presenting a bushman image with talk of chopping wood in the yard, but he's more likely to natter while drinking a Peroni than do any actual chopping.
So is he really a lumbersexual if he's all façade with no foundations? Is he really a lumbersexual if he uses tweezers and is particular about where he buys his hummus? Well, we all have our moments.
The lumbersexual was born out of finding an antidote to the metrosexual. And as long as they're still around, we'll only see more of these mini-tribes sprout up in resistance.
While the lumbersexual might have learned a thing or two from metrosexuals, it doesn't mean he's going to cave and start spouting the virtues of cold pressed juice anytime soon.