An extract from a short film I wrote with a boyfriend a few years ago, entitled Bed.
It is far more heartbreaking to find a girl that you know will never get laid. Instinctively, aesthetically, naturally, women are prettier than men. They have curves, big eyes, they care about their clothes. Men have stubble, they fight, they fart, they sweat.
We are somehow lead to believe – maybe it’s the truth, maybe it’s Hollywood – that any man, no matter what we might think on first impression, is actually really attractive. Men see finished works of art in women. Women see potential in men. And in my book, a finished work of art that couldn’t boil an egg, that’s still fine.
On reflection: I still find it interesting that we flock to the underdogs. We are told by Hollywood that people are unattractive because they wear glasses or braces, or have a certain hairstyle. They transform and voila, they are more attractive than the previous love interest. Instead of reinforcing the moral fairytale message they intended regarding looks vs personality, they actually just serve to confuse our dainty ladies’ hearts as to what makes for an attractive set of features.
The idea that any man could be attractive becomes the notion that every man is, and quickly, we should be the first one to notice before he becomes a cult sensation; what with the influx of ‘hispter’dom and the fashion of understatement and downplaying. You almost get more sex points the more unattractive you make yourself. How long does that appeal last? How long has this been a thing? Whatever happened to the Golden Ratio?