In business, there are certain standards of decorum. Casual fridays, skirts longer than the knees, general rules of dress that are held as a defacto standard across industries. Yes, some (like my fabulous company) allow you to be a little more lax at times, with jeans (the overpriced ones, especially) running prevalent amongst our offices, but for the most part, you dress differently at work than you do when going out. Yet lately, I’ve noticed a trend and I have to admit, I like it.

It’s the dress shirt sans undershirt look, and all I can say is “yumm.”

I don’t know what it is lately about scruffy beards & chest hair that causes my little Ohio-bred heart to go pitter-pat, but it’s a definite phenomenon. Whereas I cannot STAND the look of a goatee (I somehow feel that those little hairs on your chin, when not accompanied by the hunktastic beard, lower your IQ exponentially), I find a beard to be a sexy addition to any face. Am I turning into Dooce with her delight for her scrumptious bearded husband? Is it a throwback to the days of Neanderthals dragging us womenfolk by our hair into the cave as they strut their overly-follicled selves towards their feast of raw meat and grub? Or is it more subtle than that, a passing fad that allows men to be manly and gals to swoon?

Whatever it is, I hope it stays.

I wonder if this is normal. You see male models with smooth, oiled and ridiculously toned chests leaning sexily against a rock in too-short shirts, attempting to turn on the masses yet succeeding only in the middle-aged romance-novel-reading sect. Girls go through torturous procedures to rid themselves of unsightly hair, and recently I told a friend that back hair on a potential suitor would, in fact, be a deal breaker. If our society is so hair-aversive, then why do I find that little tuft of hair sticking out of your Brooks Brothers button-down so intoxicating?

Perhaps it’s the winter. We have a biological tendency to nest when the temperatures drop, with studies showing that in true mammal form many of us add a few pounds to prepare for the winter. Maybe the sight of chest hair on an already-attractive male is related to our quest for warmth, sending us over the abyss into full-fledged gushing.

Because for whatever reason, I’m swooning.