We Don’t Know Why We Love You
I watch a lot of coming-of-age films where the girl falls for a guy who fits into an obvious stereotype. Of course we like to pretend they’re exaggerated, regurgitated, and completely incorrect…but the truth is that they’re utterly true, based on fact, and we fall for these types of teenage boys time after time.
If this blog was a ride at Disney Land it would be called, ‘The Boy Teen-Dream Experience’ and you’d go on mini-dates with robotised versions of all the boys below, in mini-locations that suited them. Then one of them would try to get to third base with his plastic claw and your Dad would beat him up, but obviously the robots would win and go on to take over the world.
By this I don’t mean the guy who is into emo, since lip rings will never ever be attractive. But more the guy with “something to say”. The kind of guy who’s stumbled across his feminine side and set up camp there, and there’s no way he’s ever coming back. It’s not often we fall for these types, as too much sensitivity makes us think of Walter the Softy – it’s gonna put you off if your boyfriend starts making his own perfume. And then wears it. But we can go for them if they mix softness with darkness, and their black black soul disguising any wimpy tendencies. It’s that elusive, “I will love you for as long as I live, but considering I’m a very deep person I’ll probably be committing suicide in the next 4 to 8 months (depending on when I finish ‘The Wire’), so don’t get too attached, mmkay?” that compels us to try to be by their side constantly. We want to be the person who understands them, and listens to their philosophical thoughts about whether or not we really truly exist. We want to be the one they call up at four in the morning and play Owl City down the phone to for eight hours. We want to grasp their arm as they try not to cry when they’re talking about their relationship with their father. The only problem with these guys is that it gets really boring. After a while you become sick of making up excuses to your friends and family about why they can’t meet, “he’s just not good with strangers”, “he can’t eat in public”, “he’s disappeared for a few days to reconnect with some stuff that he’s been repressing”. Plus one day you’ll realise the dark stuff isn’t really real and all you’ve really got is a crap poet devoid of a sense of humour and lacking social skills.
Celebrity version – Robert Pattinson in ‘Twilight’.
Skaters and teenage girls go together like crumpets and butter. However we’re really only talking about pre-noughties dudes, before acupuncture trainers, Roxy and morons on longboards. Looking back on it now it’s hard to see why we fell for these mumbling, greasy, boxers-displaying members of the male race, but there was just something about them. Maybe it was their Shorty’s rucksacks on two shoulders, or that they were constantly accompanied by thumbed editions of ‘Big Brother’, “man I NEED these trucks”, or perhaps it’s that they looked really cool listening to Organized Konfusion on headphones the size of armchairs. I would put it down to being attracted to the fact we thought they were a bit dangerous, and mistook their nonchalance over breaking bones as warrior-like bravery. Damn it, they were warriors, warriors in long-sleeved t-shirts with chewed up wrist bands. I can remember borrowing my sister’s skateboard (she was really cool – she wore braces and sung in a band called ‘Dusk’), and trotting around the South Bank hoping one of them would notice me in my huge Hawaiian shirt. None of them did, which is probably a good thing as I’d have realised that their ‘I don’t give a fuck’ attitudes were actually down to the fact they had nothing at all to say, and were actually a bit wet.
Celebrity version – Jared Leto in ‘My So-Called Life’
The Party Guy
I don’t mean that one from Jackass who wears leather pants and a bow tie and makes shopkeepers uncomfortable, but the guy who’s at every party, always hanging out with really hot girls who he calls “his good time ladies”. He’s never down, or introspective, or has too much work to come out. He’s also usually misogynistic, arrogant, and always tanned because his parents are shockingly rich and take him to the Bahamas four times a year. To the pale and overly sensitive girl with dyed black hair and a deep well of angst, this guy stands for everything that is wrong in the world. He is the epitome of all that they try and ignore about men when they’re standing in their bedrooms and trying to feel OK that they’ve never had a boyfriend and their mum keeps telling them to put on more make-up. Yet despite abhorring everything about this party guy they still can’t quite dismiss the fact that sometimes they fantasise about him talking to them…and possibly even asking them to accompany him to a highbrow social occasion. They could teach him the error of his ways, they could encourage him to listen to Smashing Pumpkins, they could be friends with all those girls who’ve bullied them for years. What they should really do is wait ten years till they’re happy and are doing cool stuff, and happy in themselves, then they can find him on facebook and laugh about how sad and chubby he is.
Celebrity version – James Spader in ‘Pretty in Pink’
The Rich Guy
Going out with someone just because they’re rich is pretty weak, so let’s just assume (hope) that you’re into this person for reasons other than money. Like…eight course dinners in Nandos. Anyway. It can be pretty amazing living another life for a while, especially if they’re a banker as they’ll take you to tapas bars in Moorgate and show you off as their “creative” girlfriend. Their friends will ask what you do, and when you answer they’ll say, “Oh great, wow. Yeah I used to be good at art at School, but not a lot of money in that though is there?” Then you get to give them your withering look (practise it beforehand so you don’t just look constipated. Trust me, I’ve been there) and quote something Confucius said about wealth of spirit being more important than material goods blah blah blah. You can meet their parents at their big estate in the Country and accidentally insult their father by getting a bit drunk and calling him a Capitalist sell-out or something, and his mother will look at you respectfully. The two of you will relish being the Romeo and Juliet of the class system, flaunting your love that transcends the economy, snogging at the ballet and getting him to wear a suit to punk shows. However pretty soon you’ll have a big fight and he’ll bring up the fact that he always has to pay for everything, and that you’re lazy and don’t work enough, and that you’re always teasing him for being snobby and rich but if he calls you up on your whining and half-hearted socialism you go mental. Still it will have been fun while it lasted, and you might even get some sort of settlement money*.
*Of course you won’t get settlement money.
Celebrity version# – PATRICK BATEMAN SO WATCH YOUR BACK