It’s the morning after.

On a leisurely Sunday morning halfway through this decade, the couple awakes. The pair exchange flattering remarks about an evening filled with unbridled anticipation. Over coffee, there is chatter of tremendous promise, the assured boon of their recent quests.

Word reaches them. Success. Receptive audiences. The “it” factor.

The couple, Hollywood filmmakers and Madison Avenue advertisers—the surrogate parents—beam with pride. Moviegoers and idol-worshippers took the bait. Chase Crawford and Robert Pattison, both beautiful, are bonafide stars.

In a major city elsewhere, a rerun of “Family Affair” airs.

“Master Jody, I must insist that you hurry or risk being late for school,” pleads the bearded, portly Mr. French of his young charge. Two thirty-something men watch on, debating the “hot” factor of Mr. French (portrayed by actor Sebastian Cabot).

Such scenarios provide illustrations in beauty defined subsisting on a purely individual level. Moreover, certain distinct tastes prevail, bounded by a vocation to scout for precise physical qualities, lending itself to film and print. Ultimately, mass appeals among image-conscious connoisseurs willing to spend whatever costs to be surrounded, even emulate, fuel, and in some cases, sustain the livelihood of the subject. But, what of those with tastes which lie outside majority domain?

What is not found is created.

Describing the genesis of today’s societal fascination with the male body, American Philosopher Susan Bordo recounts a biographer’s detail of Calvin Klein’s “epiphany” while among a crowd of men in a New York gay bar in 1974. “(Calvin) realized that what he was watching was the freedom of a new generation, unashamed, in-the-flesh embodiments of Calvin’s ideals (sic): straight-looking, masculine men, with chiseled bodies, young Greek gods come to life” (180).

Bordo responds, “Klein’s genius was that of a cultural Geiger counter; his own bisexuality enabled him to see that the phallic body, as much as any female figure, is an enduring sex object within Western culture. (At the time, it was an) idea largely closeted. Only gay culture unashamedly sexualized the lean, fit body that virtually everyone, gay and straight, now aspires to” (180).

Everyone, except the gay Bear sub-culture, which in the 1980’s began to submerge in response to feeling shunned by a gay mainstream, advocates of inclusivity, focused on physically fit, hairless body images. It is a culture that today has its own hegemonic brand: predominately white, masculine, hairy, overweight. Similarly, it is a group not without its own admiration for celebrity, especially those possessing Bear attributes, including actor/writer Kevin Smith.

Addressing an audience, Smith remarks on his Bear following.

 

 

Smith accepts his notoriety—and appearance—with matter-of-factness and humor. His looks suggest a Hollywood outsider yet, he is an accomplished artist with a devoted fan-base, gay and straight. This bodes well for men like Smith and Cabot’s Mr. French inside an industry with a profound dependence on physical features.

And that, as Mr. French would say, is “jolly good.”

 

Bordo, Susan. The Male Body: A New Look at Men in Public and In Private. New York: Farrar, Straus, & Giroux, 1999.

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