It’s late, darkness has set in and tonight’s indulgence of choice is Champagne paired with a Watermelon Blow Pop.

Most of the sane world has gone to bed but I have emails to write and texts to respond to. Where better to accomplish such dealings than a dimly lit, overly crowded space populated with perfect strangers and blaringly loud Top 40?

I am dressed to the nines, currently coated in my suit of armor: Bespoke, Drop 8, only the finest Italian fabrics, perfectly tailored to every contour of my frame. Upon looking up and glancing to my left I notice two beautiful women robed in magnificent attire, shamelessly taking in the view (moi), carrying on some conversation most likely about what they would do given the chance etc.

But I am not here for women. This room is simply an extension of my office.

One of them boldly elects to approach, we have an exchange, and to no surprise she invites me to join her and her party. I decline, respectfully, pay them both a complement and explain that while I am flattered my phone presently requires my attention. Several minutes later another advances without warning. She leads in with the not-so-clever observation that whatever has my attention “must be very important” given my level of focus at this hour of the night.

“Yes, it is important.”

We have our exchange, she offers to buy me a drink, to which I again decline. I turn my attention back to my phone and this delightfully Classic Rosé, intermittently taking licks off my Blow Pop as woman-after-woman continues to move in, all opening with “what could you be doing so important at this hour of the night?”

I’m not turned off or offended. They’re beautiful and they see me, a serious Man garbed in immaculate apparel — they came for my consideration. The humor does not escape me though: here I am consuming this bubbly drink of a pinkish variety, sucking down child’s candy in-between breaths, and somehow the urge to approach yours truly has become irresistible in this space.

For perspective, I stand at 5'11", weigh all of 165 lbs, and work out maybe twice a year. I am the American Dream: the substance of Legend.

And tonight I am surrounded by a swarm of good-looking Men, some of whom are completely ripped out of their minds; if you look close enough, you can actually spot the remnants of Creatine powder on their dragon-embroidered T’s. Yet, with all of their muscle-bound glory these dudes are getting absolutely no play. I comb the room and find them talking with each other in packs, laughing it up, every last one of them trying to play “the most interesting man in the world.” But their eyes tell the story: hopelessly gawking, each and every time a female walks by…

Women are simply not drawn to this persona anymore. They may settle for it in the absence of better options, but now, I see it more than ever before: slim is sexy, slim is happening, slim is the new black. Worked out well for me. My form takes little to no work to maintain as I have blessed with a metabolism par excellence. Somewhere along the way I came to terms with this reality, that no matter how much I put in at the gym my body was not designed to swell in the same manner as my male counterparts. So I proceeded to embrace what was initially perceived as an inadequacy of size, accentuating and celebrating the character of my original form.

The mass of men fail to recognize the thing that makes them unique because it does not require force.

We are conditioned against what comes naturally. Rather than accept and differentiate, the inclination is to conform. But striving to achieve sameness within a marketplace only ever lends for false security, and what’s more, can be detrimentally compromising to your competitive advantage. If you go to the gym, you enjoy it and thrive in leading a healthy and active lifestyle, more power to you. But if your motivation is purely to increase the size of your pecs so you can be better positioned to hook up “in da club,” it might be time for reevaluation.

According to a 2012 study out of Abertay University in the United Kingdom, women “respond more favorably to the faces and bodies of men with strong immune” systems, which is indicated by size rather than masculinity. Research revealed that women primarily use weight in their subconscious judgments of immunity, directly tying the perception of a man’s wellness into his overall level of appeal. So yes, a masculine jaw and chiseled abs are fabulous features that will no doubt look good in your gym-selfies, but for the opposite sex the selection criteria is much simpler: they want know that you are healthy.

Make no mistake, to women size does matter. But in this recent paradigm shift the ladies are no longer ogling the ungodly girth of your biceps, they’re scoping the slender size of my perfectly fitted suit.