Book Review: Don't Use My Sweater Like a Towel

Non-fiction

Don’t Use My Sweater Like a Towel

Jennifer Kelton

2006

Green Knights Press

Soft cover $16.95

ISBN 0-9769221-0-X

I had such an emotional response to Jennifer Kelton’s Don’t Use My Sweater Like A Towel, that I am forced to step out of my usual review approach and get personal. But first: For all of you ladies out there in the dating scene, reading this book will be equivalent to looking in the mirror. The author is acutely honest in her presentation of the hazards of dating. With humor and a refreshing directness, Kelton challenges the question of what women really want in a relationship.

“What started for me as a quest for love, companionship, and a possible soul mate turned into a science project.” As you can probably guess, this journey the author takes begins with a failed relationship. Some two years into it there is minimal communication and even less sex, general discontent. So she ends it. Her first inclination: get laid. And does she. But as Jennifer finds herself with an array of men at her disposal she begins to re-evaluate what it is she truly wants in a relationship. The deeper she analyzes the more complex her feelings become. With the help of twelve different men during a twelve month period (some relationships overlap) she sifts through want and desire, peeling back the superficial layers of handsome faces and rugged bodies to get down into the unkempt points of the personalities of the men she dates and herself.

At the time of her “research” the author was 39, never married, and childless. She is the founder of a non-profit arts and humanitarian organization, Nomads 1800 (www.nomads1800.com) and a professional fire blower (www.fireblower.com). She has lots of friends and many professional contacts; likes to hang out and travel. Kelton presents as an independent woman who has taken good care of herself for a long time, but still, something is missing; a solid relationship. In the book she explores the natural desire humans have for intimacy and also challenges the reality of sticking with monogamy. There are also chapters that explore the impact of pheromones on mating and attraction. But mostly, there are discussions about men. Specifically, the twelve men Kelton meets in bars or through friends as well as online. Although she enters into these pseudo-relationships with her science project goals in the forefront of her mind, there are occasions when her heart eclipses them. Kevin is a prime example. Somehow, the one she falls for is the most aloof and unavailable emotionally. He causes the author a great deal of anguish. Dave, for whom the book was named, is not only “the local drunk” but also has soft boundaries with his ex-wife and is not beyond using a woman’s sweater to clean up after sex.

Now for the personal: As a married woman for eight years now (second time around) I think, after reading the author’s adventures, once this marriage possibly-eventually ends, I will simply have to date my future ex (at least keep him on speed dial for booty-calls) because, ladies, it’s scary out there. Even more than a good healthy scare, what I got from this book was an affirmation that women must know themselves and love who they are before they can expect to find and commit to “the one”. We have to do our own self-analysis before we can hope to even recognize what in a man will be good for us. For example, some of Kelton’s observations seem at first glance to be superficial: the guy whose IQ is not quite up to par or the one who wears an absolutely horrendous pair of jeans that serve only to set her libido on off. But on further thought she could be right in pointing out that, if you know from the beginning that you want a man who is smart, dresses nice, has a clean mouth, and can provide consistent orgasms, don’t go out with the guy (and please don’t have sex with him) who can’t give you that. I was repeatedly struck by the author’s descriptions of feeling hurt and empty after sexual encounters with men she had a solid sense where not right for her before the first article of clothing was removed.

The twelve guys in the experiment each had their own peculiar flaws. Even so, many were classified as “nice guys” on some level by Kelton. This left me wondering if it would have been possible for the author to overlook and or accept some of these flaws to plow through to a relationship. If one, two, or ten flaws were all it took to impede a potential relationship, no one would be married or in any type of long term relationship. Ask any wife how many of her husband’s flaws she ignores or turns her head to on a daily basis because he’s really a good guy.  I did find it enlightening when Kelton breaks down her own flaws and admits to her role in her failure to maintain a relationship.

What we end up with in Don’t Use My Sweater Like a Towel is honest, truth telling about the fragility of relationships and the impossible task of finding the absolute one person that will set of the chain of events that lead to happily ever after. It is funny and honest; profound. Kelton does an act of charity with this book by stripping her life down and inviting readers in to view it bare and raw. She provides an opportunity to look at our own selves as we peak over her shoulder into the mirror.

Melissa Levine

for

The Martini Lounge

www.martini-lounge.com