All about Philosophy

Stereotypes are difficult to run from sometimes. Although we do have the occasional odd ducks who proudly march to their own eccentric beat, the rest of us average folk usually tend to fit into the roles that people - and society - expect of us. Since by definition being homosexual is already a queer aberration from the sociocultural norm, quite a number of us try to blend seamlessly into the crowd by living up to the other expectations. That perfect son. That perfect brother. That perfect employee.

Honestly though I sometimes dream about doing something totally mind-blowingly unexpected, eventhough I rarely veer from what's expected of me.

Everyone has this fixed idea of what a doctor looks like - serious, stern, humorless, dedicated to the job ( most times sacrificing any hint of a social life for the hospital fast track )... well, I'm good for most of that but I doubt serious and stern could ever be used in any description of me, unless it's from one of the poor unfortunate interns I've inadvertently barked at. This lofty expectation from the patients also extends to the outwardly appearance of a physician. Pandering to what society expects of a well-groomed professional, we're stuck seemingly in perpetuity with the usual pristine white coat, shirt and tie ( hell, the rules of dressing is written into the fine print of the work contract! ) since I doubt the patients would appreciate coming to the clinic only to find their doctor all glammed up in outlandish pink sequins, frilly feather boa and flirty mascara.

Fortunately I've always been a fan of the average shirt and tie combo.

Which is why you'll rarely see me frequenting stores such as Philosophy and William Liew. :) Don't get me wrong. If I had the means and the opportunity - and certainly the super-lean zero-fat build required by the unforgiving cut of the clothes - I'd certainly be gallivanting in risque black leather vests, sheer pink tank tops and scandalously short denim cutoffs.


You mean I can't wear a hoody to work?
But what about a broadcasting student? Or perhaps someone in the arts? Somehow there's always this prevalent idea that the rules are a bit more lax when it comes to the creative folk. Doubt anyone would blink an eye if a male artiste were to waltz by in an outre haute couture Dolce & Gabbana confection of leather and silk with face all made up to perfection by M.A.C. Or the chic interior designer sweeping in the latest provocative eye-popping Versace.

Seems like that's not the case however since most of the guys that I do know aren't all that different from the rest of us boring shirt-and-tie sheep. Haven't seen Strapping Shane sashay by in a chi chi avant-garde ensemble as yet ( no matter how much Charming Calvin and I begged and offered obscene sexual favours for barter ) and I do know my ISO would rather be caught dead in a Geylang brothel than to wear squeaky leather pants.

What a letdown :P

Maybe I should go pierce my nipples to show them.