Man Cave

It may be a space that is overwhelmed by outsize speakers, overstuffed lazy boy chairs; a beer fridge and a television the size of the wall, but it’s a place of refuge, says Carol O’Callaghan.

WHAT is it about men and fire? Is there a dormant portion of the male brain that prevents them from heating up a saucepan of soup, but is miraculously ignited into action at the sight of a barbecue flame?

It’s usually accompanied by the sudden belief that they can conjure up a perfectly cooked meal even without the heat controls that cooking on charcoal presents as a challenge to the most accomplished of cooks.

Maybe it’s a primitive instinct genetically programmed into the male of the species, the same instinct that gave rise to the man cave.

It’s a space that is his and his alone, from where his womenfolk and their ambitions to decorate and include it in the household colour theme are banned, and where he can safely leave his beer cans and a half-eaten burger overnight.

It’s the Bada Bing room of The Sopranos and Joey and Chandler’s apartment in Friends.

It may be a space that is overwhelmed by outsize speakers and overstuffed lazy boy chairs, a beer fridge and a television the size of the wall, set permanently on the sports channel, around which he and friends from neighbouring caves gather.

But not all man caves are a lair for boozing and sports watching males.

What about that evolved creature, the delightful metrosexual who 20 years ago was only to be found in the pages of men’s fashion magazines?

He’s a developing species with the distinct characteristic of good taste, particularly in his domestic surroundings. He’s not defined by flip-flops and man-bags — that’s another species altogether — but by confidence in his own personal style.

At the same time he is so sufficiently in touch with his feminine side that he exudes detailed knowledge of the merits of enamel tart tins over porcelain when you bump into him in your local cookware shop. (It’s all about the more effective heat diffusion in enamel that ensures an even bake of the pastry, he tells me. I bought two).

This is the same man whose cave is all about cool contemporary. It’s stylish but free of frou-frou frills and that which is anathema to all men — the cushion. He’ll have a beer fridge which will contain a selection of interesting bottles from micro breweries and share the space with a case or two of wine.

His furniture will be functional but good quality and free of female design sensibilities, so resist the urge to buy him a throw for his birthday. Just because he takes pride in his surrounding and has taste does not mean he’s become one of the girls.

His bathroom will exude clinical style and he won’t consider it a sanctuary of soft lighting and candles around the bath’s edge. It will have all the latest high tech trickery with a power shower a must, if not a wet-room arrangement.

Towels will be dark, maybe grey or black, and most likely will not be quick dry micro fibre that is all about efficiency, not for self draping while coiffing his locks.

No more than a quick slick of gel on damp hair is required. For all his style he’s still a man.

¦ Next week we introduce you to a new generation of deep rich blues.