You know when you’re trying to describe a guy to your friends–and this guy is really good-looking, like movie star good-looking–and to really drive the point home you’re forced to make some comparison? A comparison between this guy and some other guy everyone agrees is ridiculously handsome? And you’re forced to compare him to Brad Pitt?
“There’s this guy who works at Starbuck’s, his name is Walt, and oh my goodness, he is so ridiculously handsome. Like, really, really cute. Like, Brad Pitt handsome.”
Well, I can’t take it anymore. Brad Pitt is not that attractive, for starters. Ok, he’s tan. That’s something. And I guess he could be described as having a “pert” nose or square hair, but he’s not actually, really, really, ridiculously handsome.
And if you subscribe to the idea that part of a man’s appeal comes from his character, well, ol’ Brad loses there. All that stuff that we shouldn’t even know about–like how Jen Aniston wanted kids, but Brad Pitt didn’t want kids when what he really meant was that he wanted kids but he wanted them with his hot co-star of Mr. and Mrs. Smith–really just shows the guy as a prurient little cheater. And it makes me just want to smack the smirk right of his smug little face.
Even though I can only base my assessment on the fact that he gave me a free shot of raspberry syrup, the kid from Starbuck’s still comes out ahead of Brad Pitt in the integrity test. And he’s better looking for it.
So, how to correct the problem. If we don’t want to say “he’s cute as Brad Pitt” what are we supposed to say? He’s as cute as Henry Cavill? (who’s that?) He could be a model? (too general, and too cheesy) He’s like a regal stallion? (anthropomorphically creepy) He’s as heavenly as a gossamer kiss? (oh, please).
What we’re really trying to tap into when we use Brad Pitt as a litmus test is his cut above-ness, his set apart specialness. He has some sort of mystique, some shiny global eclat that gives us some hope, somehow, that something in life can be perfectly beautiful. But really, Brad Pitt is just a place holder, sitting in the spot filled by Robert Redford, Elvis Presley, and Rudolph Valentino before him.
So, as with every thing in pop culture, this too shall pass. We just have to whip out our little conversational thesauri, find alternate means of expressing ourselves, and wait until this whole Pitt thing blows over.
And in the meantime, don’t even get me started on the freak-face that is Angelina Jolie.
