I have been feuding with my boyfriend for the last week about his general messiness and lack of hygiene. For the past few years he has really let himself go. His clothes are all old and worn out. Some of them even have stains. His hair always looks a little bit messy - which was sort of cute at first but now that I know why it's messy it's not cute anymore. He just doesn't care. Back (five years ago?) before the pandemic, he dressed a little bit better, but doesn't go into the office anymore so, in his opinion, there's no reason to get dressed up at all other than to wear an unstained shirt for his Zoom calls. His hair is always messy, which isn't entirely his fault - his hair is really wavy and hard to control - but he still makes no effort. There are times when he goes two or three days without showering or using deodorant. I won't even go near him sometimes because he gets so gamey. The last straw was last week when we went to my work holiday party. Even though he did put on a pair of jeans and an unstained shirt, his hair looked like a rat's nest and he argued with me when I asked him to try and comb it. He barely made an effort even though we were going to be around my co-workers all night. At some point about halfway through the party I overheard two of my co-workers complaining about how bad he smelled. To be perfectly honest, I had barely noticed because I am so used to it. I was mortified. I grabbed him and we left early and on the way home I told him what happened at the party. He brushed it off like it was no big deal and said they were just being bitchy. I told him that I know these women and they are not bitchy, they were being honest about his body odor. We went back and forth about it all night and we are still arguing today. How do I get him to see this is a serious issue? I don't know if I can be with him if he continues to act this way. How do I get him to clean up his act?

- Girl with the Smelly Guy

As human beings, there are many things that are outside of our control. We squirt out of a bloody vadge onto a wet rock that's hurtling through space at 67,000 miles per hour through a cold, empty void that stretches for an eternity. There is only one exit, and it looks even darker, so we put on a brave face, pull ourselves together, and try to make something out of this baffling, possibly meaningless earthly existence. We get up, wash our asses, brush our teeth, throw on some clothes, go to school, buy houses and cars and Red Bottoms and face-lifts and try to convince ourselves that we're fundamentally different than some squealing, shit-stained hog in a mud pit, but the bottom line is: We can never be certain.

So, either nothing matters or everything matters. Personally, I lean toward the latter. Everything is a choice. We have literally one job on this planet. That is to give a shit. To care. For me, that care starts every morning with a luxuriously long, Hollywood shower that includes soap, shampoo, and probably some other stuff that's slowly killing the planet but making me feel and smell amazing - which is how I want everyone else to feel and smell as well - including your boyfriend. Honestly, that's kind of an unmovable baseline for me. Are there are days when I fall short of the mark? Sure, but they're few. Nobody needs to go camping for more than a weekend, right? I don't think it's wrong to expect good hygiene from the people with whom I live and associate. It's part of the social contract. You break it, all bets are off. I can't be around you. Call me bitchy if you want. Just do it from a distance.

Now, I realize having standards about personal hygiene might seem a little bougie, but Western civilization didn't get to where it is today by wallowing in raw sewage. Were we a few thousand years behind Eastern civilization? Yes, but we caught up eventually. It would be a shame to let all that insanely slow progress go to waste out of sheer laziness. Tell your boyfriend that you are not going to tell him how to live his life. Instead, tell him how you are going to live your life: without him - at least until he learns to bathe and put together a decent wardrobe. I wouldn't hold my breath - even though I imagine you're pretty good at it by now.