DP is nine years older than me, which isn't an issue; I think we're compatible regardless. We like doing the same kinds of things, get fired up about the same stuff, have a laugh together. He's easygoing and young at heart.
But more and more, his awful dress sense is depressing me. In the beginning, he wore a few nice things (he doesn't have many clothes) - nothing fancy, but flattering. But ever since, he's seemed to spend his time in overly baggy, shapeless work trousers; clashing, oversized, misshapen fleeces with the pockets weighed down with all kinds of crap; manky old T-shirts; and faded pyjamas pulled up too high like Simon Cowell. And this combined look is now really turning me off.
He also lets his hair get long and scruffy and mad professor-like (not a great look with a bald patch), squeezes his pimples in the bathroom when I'm there (even though I've said over and over again that this turns me off), and just generally doesn't seem to give a rat's arse about his appearance/making the effort to be physically desirable.
Now, I'm not perfect to look at. And I didn't find my style - didn't really feel sexy - until I reached my thirties (I'm 34 now). But I do make a moderate effort, people tell me I look nice, I turn the odd head, and I'm enjoying feeling attractive for the first time in my life.
So I feel DP and I aren't on the same page with this at all. And it came to a head on the weekend, when he came along to an informal work event and arrived wearing a knackered rugby shirt, a swamp-coloured fleece gilet with 'grandad' patches on the shoulders (which completely clashed with the shirt), and knackered old jeans and trainers he bought in the 1990s. I'm ashamed to say it, but I actually felt embarrassed.
I then introduced him to my former boss, who's 10 years older than him (early fifties). I watched them chatting and thought God, DP looks older than my colleague! He's wearing the kind of things I could see my dad wearing!
I don't want an accessory partner, and my ex was overly preoccupied with his (and my) appearance; I don't like the really slick, appearance-focused, fashion victim type. But surely there's a middle ground between being obsessed with how you look and not giving a flying fuck? Just a bit of average pride in your appearance? That's all I'm after really; something in the middle.
I know the old don't-try-to-change-them rule. And I wonder if I'm being a bitch to even be bothered by this/want him to pull his finger out. But relationships take effort, don't they? And sure, it's only part of the equation, but physical attraction does matter. And I suppose I'd like it if he'd actually want to look a bit tasty for me. But no; it seems of no importance to him.
I don't want to spend my finally-feeling-good-about-my-appearance thirties with a bloke who looks/dresses old enough to be my dad.
But he is a lovely person and I do love him.
Any advice?