Before you close the browser and attempt to begin plotting my assassination, hear me out. If you flip through the slideshow above, you will notice there are only – count them – six images that stand as a proof of concept. You’ll count eight but it’s only fair that we disclose two of such images were extracted from film clips from a movie that forced a fake receding hairline into the rico suave’s head.
To bring this back to the initial point, that is six images culled from the big ass world wide web and six images only. If you google a mere pedestrian, one not unlike myself, rest assured that in the first scroll through that extensive bank of photo content you’d be able to count more instances of “ugly” than of any other defining character trait, so, really, if you think about it, the man is doing pretty well for himself.
Maybe, though, on this Wednesday afternoon, you’re remembering a study that Jezebel brought to light several months ago alluding to a terrible semi-substantiated truth which confirms that ladies, you were right. Your aesthetic value does waver and according to one tanning brand (I know, what?), we are all our ugliest on Wednesday afternoons. That’s every Wednesday afternoon. Unfortunately, this study neglects to mention whether men fall victim to a similar fate but because my highly advanced investigatory skills found me staring in distant bewilderment at a black haired, bowl cut laden image of what I swear could have easily passed for an emo drama school dropout but was actually Gosling, I’m going to surmise that we’re in this together, humans.
So, if you find yourself feeling particularly ugly right now–don’t stress it. Gosling can probably empathize.
In fact, the current heartthrob told British magazine Company on getting cast in The Notebook, “The director, Nick Cassavetes, called me to meet him at his house. When I got there, he was standing in his back yard, and he looked at me and said, ‘I want you to play this role because you’re not like the other young actors out there in Hollywood. You’re not handsome, you’re not cool, you’re just a regular guy who looks a bit nuts.’”
This quote, of course, then brings up a much larger question – especially considering how fucking irresistible the man looked in The Notebook. Are we actually only in love with him because he has grown to epitomize real, whole, true, un-teetering love? Or worse, because fame is sexy?
Nah…it can’t be. Can it?