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The look and layout of your bachelor pad when you take a woman home with you, while not a necessary tool of game, can help ease the transition from seduction to sex. There are four main design theme directions a man such as yourself can consider when kitting out a home to best reflect your ladykiller cred.
1. More masculine
Deliberately excising any estrogenic touch from your interior decorating is the way of the man who wants female visitors to know his balls are not for sale. These are the homes of the finance wizard, the international businessman and the nerd. Man caves are usually sharply geometric, monochrome, metallic, hi-fi and, except in the case of the nerd, blessedly free of clutter. Bedroom furniture is either heavy, dark, unadorned mahogany or Scandinavian. Art is minimalist and modern. Sofas are exquisitely uncomfortable, facing enormous flat screen TVs. Top shelf bottles of liquor rest on Sterling Cooper bar caddies. The masculine home is a cold, unforgiving, chillingly beautiful non-interactive space that evokes the warehouse aesthetic of early first person shooters. You are reminded of nothing less than “American Psycho” and chainsaws.
2. More feminine
Adding splashes of femininity to your bachelor pad lets women know you are comfortable living with the energy of the softer sex humming pleasantly in the background. The feminized bachelor pad is the man parlor of the artist, the real estate salesman and the homosexual. Man parlors feature rounded edges, multihued color schemes, mineral or elemental textures, lo-fi vintage sensibility, and whimsically decorative trinkets and baubles of meaninglessness. Bedroom furniture is either antique or avant-garde. Square pillows and cologne-scented candles are everywhere. Paintings of French scenes abound. The feminized man parlor is a warm, aesthetically welcoming interactive space that evokes safety, security and the familiarity of romantic moments in front of the fireplace.
3. More sexual
This is the player’s studio. His den of iniquity. A sexualized bachelor pad, whether masculinized or feminized, is littered with props that testify to a man’s preselection by women and his tomcat lifestyle. Many decorative touches are of the form of “accidental” knick-knacks left lying around — such as old photos of you with pretty girls, a stray earring, two toothbrushes in the bathroom — that send hamsters spinning at full tilt. The sexual overload is contrasted with carefully conspicuous cookbooks and “homey” artifacts that fuel the female predilection to believe there is a domesticated man within the cad just waiting to burst forth with assistance by the right woman. This is the man lounge that inspires one night stands.
4. More mysterious
Here we come to the final destination — and the most difficult to master — in bachelor pad proofing: the man manor. A woman entering the enigma of the man manor is greeted by curios of mysterious beauty and a design sensibility that evokes not so much an aesthetic, but an adventure; a life fully lived. Oddities loom over monstrous bookcases. Souvenirs act as fulcrums for each room’s decorative theme. Tattered manuscripts, not glossy magazines or SWPL weeklies, perch tantalizingly in nooks and crannies. The rooms do not reveal, as much as beg for more to be revealed. A woman, upon entering this alternate manverse, is forced to navigate the novelty,
snooping reflecting on what she sees at every turn, robbed of the inertia to sit down immediately and stew in her ASD (anti-slut defenses). She is overwhelmed by curioisty, and a curious woman is shortly a horny woman. Man manors pay only the slightest lip service to design rules, but they are generally spartan in space usage (the better to showcase the quizzical artifacts of unusual heft), boldly colored with an emphasis on the darker hues, moody in affect, and nonconformist. The man designing the man manor assiduously avoids trendiness of any flavor. He does not care for social approval; he only cares about lighting up the neural synapses of his prey.
There is no right or wrong way to manage the look of your bachelor pad. Each of the above four themes, properly executed, will redound to a man’s advantage in the bedding of women, and some women will react more favorably to a certain theme depending on her individual aesthetic, station in life and relationship goals. However, one theme provides a bigger boudoir boost than the others. And that is the man manor. Simply put, mystery is the gift that accelerates women to sexual abandon faster, and more reliably, than masculinity, femininity or Quagmire caddishness.
I have not lived in every style of place outlined in this post, but I have known, and know, men who do live in homes representing each of the four major design philosophies. Without doubt, the best players tend to the man manor theme, sprinkled with props indicating female preselection. The biggest player I have ever known — a man whose count possibly numbers in the thousands — had a living space that could double as a museum.
Charred oak was the construction medium of his coffee table and bookcases, which were filled with travel guides, dog-eared classics of literature and lewd photography books. A cracked and gouged writing desk he claimed was one used by Edgar Allan Poe sat in his bedroom, at the end of a four poster king-sized monstrosity covered with mosquito netting. A full body female mannequin wearing a safari outfit and pearls occupied a corner of the living room. She looked on the proceedings with an expression of smug disdain. A stuffed rattlesnake reared back, coiled and angry, under a glass case.
A shelf full of dusty old baseballs supposedly gleaned from major sporting events and autographed by famous players peered out from small glass containers. (I say supposedly because I had suspicion that some of the autographs were added after the point of sale.) A crocodile head was etched with dripped wax from a giant gothic candle on its snout. A reading stand — much like the one you might see holding a Bible in a church — propped open a leather-bound notebook with scribblings in Arabic, a small bottle of india ink at its side. He claimed it was a compendium of love poems written to him by a former lover who died young. A very realistic and very creepy Hollywood quality face mask acted as a bookend. A surfboard with a shark bite-shaped chunk missing from it leaned against another corner. A black cat (real one!) with piercing green eyes sat at the edge of a banal out-of-place microfiber couch, surveying his playground.
The overall impression is that one had entered the abode of Ernest Hemingway merged with Andy Warhol.
But the coup de grace was the white wedding dress (sans train) and dark purple tuxedo displayed on mesh wire torsos in a hallway leading to the bathroom. “A love story gone tragically wrong,” he would explain. In fact, he had a story for everything in his place, and it was a rare girl who didn’t feel impelled to satisfy her curiosity. I’m convinced his digs were such extreme chick crack, that half his game was opening the front door and letting girls have a look see.
How much of his stuff was authentic, or how many of his stories true, I can’t say. Likely, most of it was BS. But what does it matter whether he traveled the world collecting strange mementos and memories or he traveled to a SWPL store two miles away to buy his stories at exorbitant prices? Girls ate it up just the same. He put effort into learning and retelling his stories, true or not, and that made girls happy, which made them want to have sex and fall in love, which made him happy. And isn’t that the essence of game?
Once you’ve entranced a woman with your living room, proceed to the bedroom finishing move; the final mysterious conceit that will cause her hamster to run straight to her vagina and start nibbling on her labia.