Oh the many ways gay men have devised to say "no fats!" The latest phrase to rise to prominence is "height / weight proportionate" (or "hwp" as its abbreviated -- see above) -- which is a curious expression indeed. What exactly does it mean to be height / weight proportionate? And why has it quickly become the preferred alternative to "in shape"; "fit"; "active"; etc? A few thoughts.

Describing the kind of bodies that turn you on is not always such an easy task. Our language is somewhat imprecise. Anyone who's ever queried the meaning of a "swimmers build" is bound to see the vagaries that riddle online profiles. Indeed, we are tasked as gay men to choose a simple phrase to describe our body type from a list of options. For instance, Manhunt's options:

This list of options clearly does not come with a codebook. Deciding which to pick is in part about defining the way you identify and want others to identify you -- and not necessarily about attempting to accurately portray your body's shape / size / etc. Indeed, we see here that identity categories have woven their way into this set of options: Bear, Twink, and Cub are all suspicious here. They refer more to a cultural identity than they do to a particular body type (albeit, the two are closely related). For instance, Twink implies Slim -- yet the two are offered as separate categories. But perhaps it also implies hairless or smooth -- adding yet another layer of description implied here. It also implies young, which seems to be further off the mark in terms of what this drop-down menu is allegedly intended to describe. In any case, you can see the complexities and problems that arise here.

Since the advent of gay personals, gay men have come up with all sorts of ways to describe their own selves -- and the kind of men that they find hot. "No fats, no fems" was and still is a relatively common phrase found in profiles and ads looking for sex. But recently there has been a turn towards this curious phrase that is the subject of this blog post: Height / weight proportionate.

Let's presume that this means -- at least -- that there is a range of proportions between a person's height and weight, and that there is a subset of these ranges that is desirable. That seems clear. But isn't this a peculiar way to phrase this? I mean, anyone can be said to have a proportion between their height and weight. Are some of those proportions wrong?

Let's try this out. I am 69 inches tall, and weight 180 pounds. In other words, my height-to-weight ratio is about 0.38. I would consider myself in the "Average" body type range, whatever that means. Let's take another case -- a self-described "Body Builder" who looks damn stacked in his Manhunt pictures. Muscles on top of muscles. Presuming his reporting is accurate, he is 68 inches tall and weighs 185 pounds. His height-to-weight ratio is about 0.37. Does that somehow make his proportion worse? Better? You can see how silly this all becomes.

In the end, I think hwp rose to fame because of a combination of the exponentially escalating use of statistics when it comes to describe our bodies and our health (BMIs, etc). It connotes a kind of numerical preciseness that "Physically Fit" seems to lack. But as I hope I've made clear, it is no more precise. It's just as vague and nebulous a term as those that preceded it.

What's a more precise way to say what turns you on? If you're into lean guys, just say lean. It's very clear. If you're into guys with a lot of muscle, just say that. It may always be helpful to give examples, too. "Looking for guys built like David Beckham." Okay, so maybe that's a bit outrageous. But it's worth giving it a try. Because the problem with vague terms is not just that it makes it hard to read what you're into, but it makes the person considering responding to your ad double-guess whether or not he meets your requirements. Using more clear language helps entice those who fit your guidelines, and weed out those who don't. And -- for better or worse -- that's what profile-based hookup sites are all about.