There is a trend growing throughout our fair land: a man trend known as Lumbersexuality.

You will recognize the lumbersexual easily. He is the man who dresses like a rugged god of nature, wears husky boots, sports a solid amount of tattoos, and a full fucking awesome beard.

I should know. My husband is one of them.

Hot damn. My lumbersexual husband can stack my wood anytime.

While many lumbersexuals don’t care if their beard gets a shrub trimming or if they see themselves in a mirror, my husband is quite the opposite.

He is an extremely meticulous lumbersexual. The careful groomer kind. He conditions and combs his beard, making it a soft pillow of delight to rest my lady parts on.

In addition, he grooms it in order to avoid a chia pet experience when he ignites my hot pocket.

Unlike dried bits of oatmeal and coconut milk lingering in the untamed hairs of many lumbersexuals, the only thing you will find in my husband’s softly-spun beardedness is droplets of espresso from his fair trade coffee he just french pressed before slinging his backpack over a plaid flannel shoulder and heading out to climb his 300 foot tower crane. Not only does he photograph the sunrise every morning, he practices Buddhist meditation before starting his work day.

My lover can sport a pair of Carharrts and vintage button down vest over a white v-neck t-shirt like the bearded manly man he is. His tattoos peek out of his shirt sleeves. He enjoys local live music and homebrewed small batch beers and kombucha. And the eyes of both the gay and the straight linger on him when he walks in a room.

When he slicks his hair back, dons his black square glasses, and snaps on his leather peace wrist cuff, my panties get a bit damp. I cancel our plans when he wears his organic, locally made cologne that smells of wood and damp earth.

Unlike their logger ancestors, lumbersexuals are typically very liberal minded, globally aware, and occasionally they become yoga gurus. But they aren’t beneath double-dipping their spoons in freshly ground organic peanut butter.

These days the manliness of the lumbersexual is on the rise and may be just the thing to set your loins on fire.

Needless to say, this girl is yelling, “Timber!”

Author

Jessica is a wannabe urban homesteader, living in Portland with her blended family of 4 kids, 3 rescue dogs and 4 chickens named after Starbucks drinks. A former pharmacy student, Jessica decided she like baking better than drugs so went to pastry school instead. Described by her friend as a "Feminist Jedi Master", Jessica can be found spreading 'peace and wisdom' over at her blog, The Dalai Mama, at www.travelingmercies-jessica.blogspot.com

8 Comments

  1. Well, I have a new name for my hot manly man. 🙂 I took a computer programmer into the woods and turned him into a lumbersexual, thick beard, work boots, ax and all.

  2. This cracked me up so hard. I was just going to pick out a line that I like in particular but there are too many! So good.

  3. I can’t call timber because my businessman husband wouldn’t know what the hell I’m talking about. Besides, I’m more likely to grow a full beard than he is. BUT, I can see what your talkin’ about. Hotness. Great post!

  4. My hubs is the buttoned up, close cropped hair, IBM type (but he’s still hot even in spite of it) but your description of your man is damn delicious! Phew! I believe the temp in here went up a few degrees!

  5. I cannot do beards, not my thing, but I loved the passion for her husband. Finally. Just awesome.

  6. wow! I loved this piece had me laughing the whole time you describe your husband so well #apieceofartyourhusbandis:-)

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