The bathroom is slowly becoming a gray area between the sexes thanks to Axe, Old Spice and other companies that want men to sluice their ass cracks with products called things like Appalachian Prolapse and Minotaur's Vigilant Scrod. But the Old Spice Guy has a long way to go to catch up with the Avon Lady in terms of weird shit women keep next to the toilet.
There's certainly a cliche about women's bathroom products versus men's bathroom products, but we're not necessarily talking uses here. If women need vanishing cream even though we can still see them, so be it. Wrinkle cream for 20-year-olds, argan oil to keep your argans greasy, rejuvenating masks to try to live life like a Goa'uld ... whatever floats your boats, ladies. It's the volume that's confusing.
No one gives a shit about this reference.
A typical man, if he still buys his own bath products, probably has one bottle of body wash and one bottle of shampoo. Probably one toothbrush and one tube of toothpaste as well. One stick of deodorant and maybe a whole pack of razors. That's the entire universe of his bathroom grooming. Few women outside of prisons and Third World Christian missions have limited themselves to a single bottle of shampoo, however. You need shampoo fortified with vitamin E and amino acids, even though science tells us that neither of those things will have any biological effect on your hair at all. They might make it look shiny for a few hours, though. You need one kind of shampoo that smells like avocado and melon and another that smells of sea buckthorn and jojoba. Would you know what the hell sea buckthorn was if you tripped over it on the street? No. No, you wouldn't. Sea buckthorn could be a kind of sentient undersea penis monster. Don't bathe in it. Let it be.
The beauty industry exists because it has, over years and decades, convinced women that they need to look artificially good, even though they don't need to look good for a man, and they need to be perfect at all times, even though no one's perfect. And to be strong and free and fresh, they need to wear heels and lipstick and pants that slim you and bras that lift and separate your boobies, and somehow it's either all a man's fault or something we should deeply appreciate but never expect. Not ever.
Do women need so many creams and tinctures and ointments and lotions? Of course not, but the world is full of shit we don't need. I don't need Xbox and Netflix, but I'll take your hand if you try to take them away from me. But that doesn't mean it makes any sense to me. Or you. Or any women who have shelves and shelves of bottles and jars of goo at home.
If you look in a man's closet, or the cool, damp sack he keeps his clothes in, you'll probably notice he has blue jeans and maybe a pair of dress pants. If he's a terrible person, he has sweat pants. If his parents didn't love him very much, he has khakis. That'll be about it, though.
Ladies have a vast array of pants and buttocks-ensconcing fabric-based structures that defy logic. Sure, they have blue jeans and khakis and dress pants. But then what the hell are Capris?
Capri pants are not shorts, but they're not as long as regular pants. The effect of this is a pair of pants that are apparently the wrong size for you. Like you started to grow like Josh in the movie Big and your little clothes couldn't keep up with you. Why would an adult dress in ill-fitting pants? No one knows.
Tights can also be worn interchangeably with pants, at least in a woman's world. Try to imagine for a minute a place in which a man could put on a second skin of purple fabric that shows off every curve of his ass. Even the soft, summery outlines of his ass beard. Because you can see full-on crack in tights. And that under-bum smile. Any man deserves to be arrested for that sort of thing. But they're pants for ladies. I don't know what a jegging is, but I think Kardashians wear them. Harem pants and ankle pants and linen pants and Gauchos. Gaucho was not a Marx Brother. They're like shorter Capris, which is not to be confused with pedal pushers, which are also like Capris, but not the same length.
I would argue that the pants issue transcends gender, but women refuse to acknowledge it. For instance, if two women have the same pair of Capri pants, and one woman has legs three inches shorter than the other woman, but they are otherwise the same body size, are they still Capri pants when the shorter woman wears them, or are they now pedal pushers? Or are they Gauchos? If you lose your legs in an accident, are Capris just pants now? Why won't you answer me, legless hobo from Trading Places?
Finally free from the tyranny of pants.
So to summarize, men will never understand women's pants, because they literally cannot be understood.
That being said, never ever applaud a comedian who starts a routine about the differences between men and women. Because beyond the things I just mentioned, the only differences relate to nipples, film choices and singing voices. Everything else is a lie.
For more from Ian, check out 6 Obnoxious Old People Habits (Explained by Science) and 9 Awesome Places to Have Sex (And the Horrific Consequences).