I have never had anyone try to change my clothes. But then, I gravitate to low-cut tops, and girly skirts, so NSM.

D. has pretty good taste, so I don't really have to worry about it. I AM, however, quietly changing over all of his hygiene products from "cheapest" to "better."

His hair is silkier, his skin is less dry, and he smells nicer. He doesn't wear cologne, which, SOB, because I cannot live without yummy good smells, even on men, so I changed his body soap and deodorant to smells that are nicer to my nose.

He is very good-natured about it.

Gladiator sandals completely befuddle me - I see them *all* over NYC, and I don't understand how people can walk around all day in shoes with zero arch support! I mean they're just completely flat!

I don't wear shoes with arch support. I do minimalist footwear entirely now (mostly Terra Plana Vivo Barefoot), which means no arch support, no cramped toes, and very thin (3.5mm or so) soles. It's been great for my back.

The lack of decent open-toed minimalist sandals means I've been wearing occasional flip flips. I think the Vibram Fivefingers finally got me to the point with the thing between my toes was not annoying.

Beyond Feminist Hulk.

The guy trying to change me was making some massive assumptions, amonsgt which were that figure-hugging jeans and baby tees weren't feminine enough.

No, I've seen the women he actually dates, and I was terribly butch in comparison. I have no idea why he was slumming with me, and no idea how he thought he was going to mold me into one of them. My hair was two feet too short. Breasts too small and too natural, and makeup? Let's not even get started.

YOUR boobs were too small?

Um...wow.

I have never had anyone try to change my clothes.

Pete will give me his opinion of things (go on, look shocked. I know you want to.), and will tell me what he thinks flatters my figure best, but he's never tried to tell me I needed to wear completely different things.

(Except for the mismatched stockings look. He HATES that, and makes a squinchy face whenever I indulge in that particular bit of whimsy.)

I don't wear shoes with arch support. I do minimalist footwear entirely now (mostly Terra Plana Vivo Barefoot),

BTW, the CEO of that company was the cute English guy in my Honors Philosophy class who said about rugby, "Oh, you've GOT to try it, it's a whole different culture," inspiring me to check out a practice. With typical British understatement, if you asked him what his father did, he'd say, "He's a shoemaker." (Last name Clark, as in Clarks). Not that you care. It just amuses me to see him an international CEO with a hot niche consumer item, having known him in the rugby context.

The SO has never complained about my appearance although it has fluctuated wildly while we`ve been together, preppy, femme hippie, androgynous minimalist, punked out all black, butch hiker, etc. He does encourage stuff he likes (he thanks all y`all for the nail polish thing--I think it`s hilarious he notices my nails) but doesn`t bitch if I`m slumming it. I think the butchest periods were toughest on him; he didn`t love being mistaken for two guys out together all the time, and he got a little flinchy when I was getting a goodly amount of lesbian attention.
 
But hey, he has a yellow-green mohawk and he got hit on by drunken women in their fifties at a cowboy bar, so I think I have some operating room here. We were teasing him pretty good about how I can`t take him anywhere without him ending up with a date, church, bars. Hee.

With typical British understatement, if you asked him what his father did, he'd say, "He's a shoemaker." (Last name Clark, as in Clarks).

Tell him I love his shoes. Though I wish more of them came in wide widths.

I don't mind suggestions--not down with nagging or the implication that I have to dress a certain way. I am happy to make and get suggestions about my looks from friends and lovers. I would never tell anyone I was close to that they HAD to dress a certain way--except that I have told the DH that he is never going to be allowed to grow a beard like Billy Gibbons in ZZ Top, no matter how much he begs. [link] Not gonna happen, my friend.

Okay, I did nag a guy into growing back his beard, but we really looked like a pair of teenaged boys dating, and it felt creepy, given we were both past 21. It aligned with my tastes, but it was self-preservation too.

Perhaps uncoincidentally, my mother made my father grow his beard back the one time he shaved it. He's always looked young(er than her), but without it? He dropped another ten years. No dice, señor. We also pushed him into band collar shirts (man, my mother really liked those), but it took external validation to convince him that guys of his station really dressed that way.