Straight Family Man Prefers To Wear Skirts And Heels As He Believes ‘Clothes Have No Gender’

Introducing Mark Bryan, a fashion-forward robotics engineer who is making waves and upending conventional wisdom. Bryan, who has been married for eleven years and is a loving parent, defies stereotypes by dressing in what many would consider unusual clothing. Bryan, an American living in Germany, freely wears heels and skirts, stating that gender norms shouldn’t apply to fashion.

You might wonder, why? Bryan, on the other hand, thinks that men’s fashion—particularly office wear—is very boring, consisting only of dark blues, grays, and blacks with the occasional pinstripe. Is there any passion in that? Conversely, skirts provide an array of designs, patterns, and hues – a veritable rainbow of outfit options!

Bryan embraces a fashion trend that combines parts of the traditionally masculine and feminine, teaming ties and blazers with pencil skirts and four-inch heels. It’s his method of demonstrating the genderlessness of clothing. In addition, when his girlfriend wanted a dancing partner who could match her eye level back in college, he taught her how to walk in heels. After a whole year of preparation, he has been strutting with confidence ever since!

Bryan’s unrepentant attitude disregarded social norms. He dresses in ways that bring him joy while defying conventions. What he says about it is as follows:

Clothes are genderless in my opinion. I like skirts more than dresses. I can’t mix the genders with dresses. Above the waist, I like to look “masculine,” and below the waist, I like to look non-gendered. It’s all about the genderlessness of clothing.

Bryan recalls an era when girls were not supposed to wear pants to school. Pants are now gender neutral. Why not heels and skirts then? Furthermore, males have worn heels in the past. The Persian cavalry of the tenth century, who wore galesh or kalash boots to keep their feet in stirrups, are credited with the invention of high heels. Later, wearing high heels—even by popes—became a status signal for European royalty.

The 18th century saw the emergence of a gender gap in fashion, which Bryan is now challenging, as a result of ridiculous cultural concerns that declared fashion to be a frivolous issue unworthy of “real men.”

Bryan admits that his fashion choices could cause people to double take, even though he advocates for guys to wear high heels. However, he compares the response to seeing someone with vivid green hair, which seems strange at first but eventually becomes just another feature of that individual.

“Leave a person with vivid green hair behind. Green hair is not typical. You glance up and notice someone, and your brain immediately identifies them as having green hair. You may find that strange or intriguing, but you quickly move on to your previous task without giving it any more attention. I think people react the same way when they see me wearing heels and a skirt.

Bryan finds it easy to find heels and skirts that fit. He has a lot of alternatives because he has size 8.5 feet and a size 8 skirt. He advises men who want to wear heels to start low and work their way up to a comfortable level.

What are your thoughts on Mark Bryan’s wardrobe selections? Would a man you know try wearing high heels? Talk about this with your loved ones and friends and let’s start a dialogue!

A Man in Our Restaurant Shamed His Girlfriend for Being ‘Smart’ & Corrected Her Every Word – So, I Stepped In

As a waitress, I’ve heard countless mispronunciations of our international menu. But when I overheard Andrew “correcting” his girlfriend Amanda’s flawless Italian, German, and Mandarin, I just had to say something.

The Friday night rush at Flavors of the World restaurant always kept me on my toes. As a waitress, I loved the hustle and bustle, the clinking of glasses, and the hum of conversation.

But what I enjoyed most was listening to the diverse languages spoken by our patrons as they ordered from our international menu.

A waitress serving drinks at a restaurant | Source: Pexels

A waitress serving drinks at a restaurant | Source: Pexels

One couple in particular caught my attention: Amanda and Andrew. They were regulars, who came in every Friday without fail.

Amanda had her bright eyes and a gentle demeanor. She always impressed me with her linguistic abilities.

She’d order dishes in their native tongues, and her pronunciation was spot-on whether it was Mandarin, Spanish, Italian, or German.

“Buonasera [Good evening],” Amanda greeted me one evening. “Potrei avere gli gnocchi alla sorrentina, per favore [could I have the gnocchi alla sorrentina, please]?”

A plate of gnocchi | Source: Pexels

A plate of gnocchi | Source: Pexels

I smiled, appreciating her flawless Italian. “Certamente, signora. Ottima scelta [Certainly, ma’am. Excellent choice]!”

Andrew, on the other hand, was a different story. Tall and conventionally handsome, he carried himself with an air of superiority that set my teeth on edge.

Every time Amanda spoke, he’d interrupt, “correcting” her pronunciations with his own butchered versions.

A woman looking sad at a restaurant | Source: Midjourney

A woman looking sad at a restaurant | Source: Midjourney

“It’s not ‘nyocky,’” he’d say, rolling his eyes. “It’s ‘guh-nocky.’ Honestly, Amanda, you sound ridiculous.”

I’d bite my tongue, not wanting to be rude and possibly reduce my tip.

Amanda would always shrink a little at his words. “I’m sorry, Andrew. I thought –”

“No, you didn’t think,” he’d cut her off. “Just order like a normal person next time, okay?”

An angry looking man at a restaurant | Source: Midjourney

An angry looking man at a restaurant | Source: Midjourney

This pattern repeated week after week. Amanda would order beautifully in whatever language the dish originated from, and Andrew would belittle her efforts.

“Ich hätte gerne das Wiener Schnitzel, bitte [I would like the Wiener Schnitzel, please],” Amanda said one night in impeccable German.

“It’s ‘weiner snitchel,’ Amanda,” Andrew scoffed, bothering the name of the typical Austrian dish. “Stop trying to sound fancy.”

A plate of Wiener Schnitzel | Source: Pexels

A plate of Wiener Schnitzel | Source: Pexels

I watched as Amanda’s confidence dwindled with each passing week, and it broke my heart to see such talent and passion being stifled.

This particular Friday was different for some reason.

Amanda’s usual smile was strained as she and Andrew walked in. But I quickly realized why.

Behind them trailed an older couple I hadn’t seen before, but the family resemblance was clear. Andrew’s parents.

An older couple walking into a restaurant | Source: Midjourney

An older couple walking into a restaurant | Source: Midjourney

I approached their table with a notepad in hand. “Good evening, folks. What can I get you tonight?”

Amanda glanced at the menu, then at Andrew, before speaking softly. “I’ll have the pho ga, please.”

“It’s ‘foe guh,’ Amanda. God, do you have to be so pretentious all the time?”

Amanda’s cheeks flushed. “I’m sorry, I just –”

An upset woman at a restaurant | Source: Midjourney

An upset woman at a restaurant | Source: Midjourney

“Don’t mind her,” Andrew cut in, addressing his parents. “She thinks she’s so smart, always showing off.”

His mother tutted sympathetically. “Oh, sweetie,” she said to Amanda, “are you always such a bragger? Can’t you speak normally?”

I gripped my pen tighter and felt my knuckles whitening. Amanda looked like she wanted to disappear.

Andrew leaned into her ear but whispered loud enough for me to hear. “Stop shaming me. Talk like a normal person.”

A man at a restaurant leaning close to a woman | Source: Midjourney

A man at a restaurant leaning close to a woman | Source: Midjourney

When tears welled in Amanda’s eyes, I knew I couldn’t stand by any longer.

“Nín hǎo [Hello],” I said, addressing Andrew in Mandarin. “Qǐng bùyào rúcǐ cūlǔ de duìdài nín de nǚpéngyǒu [Please do not treat your girlfriend so rudely].”

Andrew’s jaw dropped. Amanda’s head snapped up, surprise replacing the hurt in her eyes.

“Xièxiè nǐ [Thank you],” Amanda replied, her Mandarin flowing smoothly. “Zhè duì wǒ yìyì zhòngdà [This means a lot to me].”

A woman at a restaurant looking up and smiling | Source: Midjourney

A woman at a restaurant looking up and smiling | Source: Midjourney

Andrew and his parents exchanged bewildered glances. “What’s going on?” he demanded. “What are you saying?”

“Oh, I was just asking you not to treat your girlfriend so rudely. And Amanda was thanking me, saying it means a lot to her,” I answered sweetly.

“I don’t believe you!” he accused me. “You’re making that up. You’re insulting us!”

“Son,” his father interjected, “maybe you should –”

An older man looking upset at a restaurant | Source: Pexels

An older man looking upset at a restaurant | Source: Pexels

“No!” Andrew slammed his hand on the table. “She’s lying. She has to be. Amanda, what did she say?”

Amanda sat up straighter, and her eyes sparkled. Something had changed. “She’s not lying, Andrew. And neither am I when I pronounce words correctly in other languages.”

“But… but I thought…” Andrew sputtered.

A man confused and surprised at a restaurant | Source: Midjourney

A man confused and surprised at a restaurant | Source: Midjourney

“You thought wrong,” Amanda said firmly. “I’ve spent years studying languages. Just because you don’t understand something doesn’t make it wrong or shameful.”

“So what, you’re some kind of genius now? Is that what you’re saying?”

“No,” Amanda replied. “I’m just someone who loves languages and has worked hard to learn them. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

A notebook and a book with notes on learning Spanish | Source: Pexels

A notebook and a book with notes on learning Spanish | Source: Pexels

Andrew’s mother chimed in, obviously embarrassed by the scene they were causing. “Sweetie, don’t you think it’s a bit… much? Always showing off like this?”

“It’s not showing off to use the skills you’ve worked hard to acquire” Amanda retorted. “Would you say the same thing to a musician playing an instrument well?”

“Well, I… that’s different.”

“How?” Amanda challenged. “How is it different?”

A woman with a raised eyebrow at a restaurant | Source: Midjourney

A woman with a raised eyebrow at a restaurant | Source: Midjourney

Andrew’s father cleared his throat. “Now, let’s all calm down. I’m sure we can-“

“No, Dad,” Andrew cut in. “I want to hear this. Go on, Amanda. Tell us how smart you are.”

I watched in anticipation as Amanda took a deep breath. “This isn’t about being smart or bragging! It’s about respect. Respect for other cultures, for the effort people put into learning, and for me as a person.”

A smiling waitress | Source: Pexels

A smiling waitress | Source: Pexels

“Respect?” Andrew scoffed. “What about respecting me? Do you know how embarrassing it is when you start spouting off in some foreign language?”

“Embarrassing for whom?” Amanda shot back. “For you? Because you can’t understand it? Have you ever thought that maybe, just maybe, the problem isn’t with me speaking other languages but with your reaction to it?”

The restaurant had grown quiet as other diners watched the scene unfold. Andrew’s mother cleared her throat awkwardly. “Perhaps we should go somewhere else.”

A busy restaurant | Source: Pexels

A busy restaurant | Source: Pexels

“I think that’s a good idea,” Amanda agreed and stood. “And I’ll be going home. Alone!” She turned to me. “Thank you for your kindness. Grazie mille. Danke schön. Muchas gracias!”

With that, she walked out and held her head high. I smiled and waited.

Andrew and his parents shuffled out soon after with their tails between their legs.

A restaurant door | Source: Pexels

A restaurant door | Source: Pexels

The following Friday, I was surprised to see Amanda walk in alone. She looked different, somehow lighter, as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders.

“Table for one?” I asked.

She nodded, smiling. “Yes, please. And I’d love to chat if you have a moment.”

Once I’d seated her and taken her order, I pulled up a chair. “How are you doing?”

A seated woman smiling | Source: Pexels

A seated woman smiling | Source: Pexels

“Better than I have in a long time,” Amanda admitted. “I broke up with Andrew the day after… well, you know.”

I nodded encouragingly. “That must have been tough.”

“It was, but it was also liberating. I realized I’d been living in fear of his judgment for so long. When I told him it was over, he couldn’t believe it.”

“What did he say?” I asked, curious.

A blonde woman smiling | Source: Pexels

A blonde woman smiling | Source: Pexels

“He said, ‘You’re making a mistake, Amanda. Who’s going to put up with your show-off behavior?’ Can you believe that?” Amanda shook her head. “I told him, ‘Someone who appreciates intelligence and curiosity! Someone unlike you.’”

I grinned. “Good for you! How did that feel?”

“Terrifying and exhilarating all at once,” Amanda laughed. “But you know what? Your intervention made me realize how much I’d been diminishing myself to make him comfortable. I’d forgotten how much joy I found in languages, and in learning about different cultures. I’d let him convince me it was something to be ashamed of.”

A smiling woman at a restaurant | Source: Midjourney

A smiling woman at a restaurant | Source: Midjourney

“I’m glad I could help,” I said. “No one should make you feel small for being passionate about something.”

Amanda’s eyes shone. “Absolutely. And you know what? I’ve decided to apply for a job as a translator. It’s something I’ve always wanted to do but never dared to pursue.”

“That’s fantastic!” I exclaimed. “Where are you applying?”

A blonde woman at a restaurant | Source: Pexels

A blonde woman at a restaurant | Source: Pexels

“There’s an international non-profit organization that works with refugees. They need translators who can speak multiple languages fluently. It’s perfect for me.”

As we continued talking, switching between languages with ease, I marveled at the change in Amanda. She radiated confidence and enthusiasm, and just because I stepped in at last.

When it was time for me to get back to work, Amanda reached out and squeezed my hand. “Thank you again. For everything.”

Hand shake at a restaurant | Source: Midjourney

Hand shake at a restaurant | Source: Midjourney

I squeezed back. “Anytime and good luck!”

Sometimes, all it takes is one small act of kindness to help someone find their self-confidence again. And in a world full of different languages and cultures, all voices deserve to be heard, loud and clear.

A smiling woman at an office | Source: Midjourney

A smiling woman at an office | Source: Midjourney

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