Editor's note: This feature is sponsored by Ford.

On foot, we present ourselves in an array of fabrics, accessories and footwear but on the road, our efforts are hidden under a pile of metal. The only visible part of our anatomy is our head, which is often smaller than any wheel of any car. And it is our heads (both on top and below the waist) that drive us to dress the way we do.

Surely, dressing up on our soles is clear but what about when we are behind the wheel? Are cars the exoskeleton of gay men today? If so, are we like beetles and crabs where their exoskeletons act as telltale signs of what they really are?

Besides being substitutes for our poor feet, cars also represent who we are on foot. Call it a fa�ade but the fact remains: buying a car is tricky but liking it is easy. We are choosy because we are in-search of the car - a combination of metal, rubber, polystyrene and leather that perfectly expresses our individuality - another way to show our full kinetic energy in action. Today, cars are more than engineered products. They are born with personality and attitude. We are the ones standing in line, waiting to be chosen. In fact, these days buying a car is akin to a match making process. We often refer to cars as sexy, cute, mighty, butch, even orgasmic! Unconsciously, we commune with the car of our choice. Consequently, a mutual resemblance of personality as well as attitude can be found.

Personally, I'm attracted to men who fall into the "masculine", "butch", testosterone-laden category. For example, there's this tall, well-built wiring engineer, whom I got to know from a club. His car? A massive, sexy, yellow Ford Ranger. When I saw his truck for the first time, I could not help but think - can this guy get any macho-er? And so I approached the Ranger. Its bulging headlights were virtually prodding against me, which reminded me of something familiar as he stood beside me. While driving, he told me about his last fishing trip and how big his catch was. And all the while I was thinking of my own big catch! It was funny because everything suddenly seemed so big, huge or massive. Something tells me it was the truck.

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My current boyfriend, yet another macho stereotype, also drives a similar Ford Ranger, albeit a blood red one. I couldn't help but ask myself: what is it about Ford drivers and me? And what's the deal with Ford Rangers and macho men?

Oddly enough, a couple of weeks later my best friend and housemate ( a suave, successful suit in his late twenties) got himself a Ford as well. As can be expected, he's always in control, always in-search for speed and always on the go. Being the person he is, he pushes his limits to the outmost edge, legally of course. Did I mention he is always in-search of speed? Sometimes I wonder if he is on speed. Perhaps that is why he drives a Ford Lynx. I told him it's the perfect car for control freaks and I couldn't be more right.

Despite the sheer coincidence, I was quite put off. Until I found my new car. At the beginning, I figured I was neither a Ranger nor a Lynx. Since I was brought up in suburbia, my passion for nature is strong. You won't find me in the city on my days off; instead I will either be lying comfortably on nature's palms; amidst the sands, or in the waves. Above all else, I get a thrill at the sight of colossal concrete slowly morphing into the woods.

Since escaping from the city is what I love best, I decided on the Ford Escape. It gave me what I needed - a powerful vehicle that allows me to travel between the two kingdoms. And the chance to do so in style (champagne gold!)

Before, we pride ourselves with our labels and well thought-out outfits. Now, cars have become another extension of our vanity. In other words, cars - our human exoskeleton - act as telltale signs of who we really are - behind the wheel and underneath our skin. I guess the relationship is mutual: cars and gay men are both on the road, and on the line to be judged on our exterior presentation.

Editor's note: This feature is sponsored by Ford.