Why man caves are actually hugely important
A "man cave" is a bit embarrassing, isn't it? There are various other euphemisms for these spaces where men go to escape their wives, hide from the kids, indulge in their nerdy hobbies, or just drink from a secret booze stash and watch questionable YouTube videos (pick your favourite stereotype!). But the concept of having a separate space from the main family home in order to indulge in some activity seems to be a well-known one.
They have some historical origins: Theodore Roosevelt had his "trophy room" for displaying hunting taxidermy work; Mark Twain had his Billiard Room which was his preferred writing location. There are a bunch of others too listed on this page which I definitely didn't just google before writing this paragraph.
The point is: men seem to need a separate space for ourselves and our silly little hobbies. Women seem to need this too so perhaps this is just a human universal: we all need a little spot we can disappear to and recharge.
Mine got finished this week. Back in October 2023 I hired some builders to come and adapt my existing garden shed into a home office. It took me a few months to clear the space of years' worth of accumulated junk and rearrange the house to accommodate some of it, then finally the builders were able to do their thing, followed by the electricians. I moved most of my home office equipment into the shed at the start of January, and this week the builders came to replace the old window with a new one (which opens!) and the job was complete.
I won't lie: I've hugely enjoyed being able to hang all my nerdy cycling prints up, display all my favourite books—there's a Tolkien shelf—and most importantly, mount all seven of my guitars on the wall. When Maddy asked me if I wanted to move my espresso machine into the shed as well I nearly took her up on the offer, before realising that I basically wouldn't have a reason to go back to the house ever again. Thank god there's not a bed in here.
It's meant a huge amount to me to have this space. My spare bedroom office has gotten smaller and smaller over the years as I've accumulated home studio equipment and more musical instruments, and I've felt like this has constrained and compressed me, too.
I recorded and released an album last year and the most challenging aspect of it was the vocals: I've been playing instruments in bands since I was a teenager and am pretty comfortable with that side of things. Despite coming from a family of singers with powerful voices, it's never been something I felt confident or experienced with. Listening back to my 2023 songs now, I hear the uncertainty, the hesitancy, the straining as I try to sing a melody while half-crouching in an attic bedroom with a sloped ceiling, trying not to disturb the neighbours.
Here in my "man cave" I have my microphones on proper mounts where I can stand up and sing something, full-throated and with feeling, safe in the knowledge that the only things I'll be disturbing are likely to be the neighbourhood cats that like to hang out on the shed roof. Having this space, separate from my home and family, has freed me up to be less self-conscious and shrinking, and instead lean in to the things I love. Long live the man cave.
Mini feels this week
Passing as a man
On a trip to the building supplies shop this week to buy wood for the guitar rack, the checkout assistant asked me "are you a professional builder?". I puffed my chest out slightly with pride at this question, deciding that it meant I was carrying the two-metre planks of wood with such casual familiarity that I must be passing as a tradesman.
"No", I admitted. "This is just for a personal project".
"I thought so", she said with a half wink, "but we have a discount for the trade and some targets to hit, so next time you're buying something here, just tell us you're in the trade".
Feeling slightly less proud of myself, I smiled and nodded and carried my wood out of the shop, bumping it on the doorframe as I meekly exited the shop.