Sometimes it’s good to bend the “my type” rules.

Six months ago I had a mental checklist of my ideal man. The list worked in a sort of hierarchy, some things I would never (and still would never) budge on:

  • MUST be taller than me. This goes without saying, surely ladies?
  • CANNOT be younger than me. Not by a day. Not by an hour. Not by a minute.
  • NO back hair. (Or atleast if this is UNAVOIDABLE- must be taken care of and removed before stray back hairs catch my attention.)
  • MUST not click fingers. (As in that gross horrible knuckle breaking exercise that some repulsive human beings insist on doing with EACH finger.)
  • CANNOT have excessive ear/nostril hair.
  • MUST have clean nails. (I mean, if I can clean, polish and have perfectly manicured nails then surely it is no biggie to ask that your stubby nails aren’t grubby?)
  • MUST be intelligent and ambitious.
  • MUST be bigger than me. Larger legs and broader shoulders. (I don’t wish to feel like a heffer, thanks!)

Then there are the things that I like and really consider important…

  • GSOH. GOOD SENSE OF HUMOUR. Really this is a must.
  • Stubble. (Need I say anymore?)
  • The ability to text with good grammar and using the english language as it appears in the dictionary!
  • Hair, lots of it…on the head (obviously) and a generous amount on the chest (preferably whilst steering clear of Simon Cowell and werewolf-esque levels.)
  • Hygiene. All round.
  • A good cuddler.

The perks:

  • Sparkling blue eyes.
  • A salary with a never ending number of 0s at the end. PLEASE?
  • Of Irish descent. (Basically with an Irish accent.. )
  • Amazing in bed.
  • Just generally be Ryan Gosling. Or Bradley Cooper. Or Ryan Reynolds. (See, I am open to manoeuvre!)


This is all good and well…(and it still applies- if you fit the above, feel free to get in touch) but now, I’m increasingly prepared to ditch ye old mental checklist.

The current man of my affections lacks on a number of points. He fulfills all my non-negotiable requirements- although I have noticed that his knees are a little bonier (and therefore slimmer) than mine!!! But when it comes to many of my other desires, my dear falls short.

For starters his English is POOR. He texts in proper sentences and using full words and all that jazz, he just can’t spell to save his life. It irritates me and BOY is it something that I can’t ignore, but I know he tries and I find that…well, kind of endearing. Hair isn’t his strong point. Actually, that’s a lie. His chest is like a slightly overgrown (but sexy!) garden…the hair on his head is er, non existent. Initially this saddened me. There is nothing that I love more than running my fingers through a man’s hair…mmm. But in its absence, I am actually quite appreciating the feel of a smooth head. (WHO WOULD HAVE GUESSED?) Whilst his eyes are brown and his salary…distinctly average- I’ve become aware of newfound perks that I may have to add to my list for the future.

This man can cook. I mean really cook…he is a chef afterall. I never thought this was something I would value, but I do. As a twenty two year old who makes a mean pasta including pre-bought sauce…I have never been more appreciative of REAL, genuinely delicious food, made for me by my own personal chef. REAL PERK. Hair v Great food? No contest! Other perks include…INCREDIBLE (and that’s no understatement) kissing, a genuinely nice personality and a love of horror movies.

Maybe there is some scope to broaden my horizons and bend the rules. Perhaps some requirements are disposable and new ones can forever be found? Maybe love is just love. Not an exact science, not maths: one desire plus one of my criteria equals true love. Perhaps you should just go with the flow, regardless of age, eye colour and hair to skin ratio?

I don’t know. All that I do know is that the guy I am seeing can put on a great Irish accent. He may not actually be from Ireland but I’m all for compromise and a bending of the rules!


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