Sex sells. Just ask the fashion label Calvin Klein, whose adverts flogging perfectly white (and salaciously tight) men’s underwear have led to global pant domination. Its formula of “hunky celebrity guy du jour brooding in tiny whities” has been turning heads for decades, so you might think we’d be immune to their masculine wiles by now. Not so, as the breathless response to last week’s ads featuring the actor Jeremy Allen White proved. In the campaign video, White, best known as chef Carmy from the hit TV series The Bear, is seen wandering New York, before climbing the stairs of a building and emerging on to its roof, where he strips down to his boxers and does some half-hearted exercise (mostly stretches but he chucks in a little pull-up too). This is before he falls on to a conveniently placed rooftop sofa (no plastic covering? Doesn’t it get wet?), and we see that he had his trainers and socks on the whole time.
It wasn’t his ability to remove his shorts while walking and without taking off his trainers that got tongues wagging – or rather, panting. It was White’s muscular, toned and tanned physique. The still images show him pulling the underwear waistband down to reveal a defined inguinal crease or “love line” (the pinnacle of the male physical ideal, apparently), and lounging on the rooftop in jeans, flies open and shimmied down to show the underwear. “This is what every woman needed to start 2024 off right,” reads one comment on Calvin Klein’s Instagram. “I hope this is someone’s gay awakening,” reads another. A comment simply saying “YES CHEF” earned 1,600 likes.
So why should we care about this latest chapter in internet thirst? I think there is a lesson here. Part of the reason the campaign caused such a stir is that White was hitherto not considered a hunk. It was a surprise to see an actor who is usually cast as the salt-of-the-earth relatable everyman elevated to Adonis status. But let’s be real: most actors in big film and TV productions – even if they are cast as the girl next door or a weather-beaten detective – are very good-looking, and in conventional ways: fit and slim, clear skin, perfectly coiffed and groomed. It’s slightly ludicrous that anyone is surprised by White. He’s on TV – of course he’s a classically handsome man.
There are exceptions, such as EastEnders, which Will Smith said he loved because it was not like American soaps, “full of beautiful people” (rude, but let’s move on). We can also thank reality TV for bringing a little bit of body and beauty diversity to our screens. Still, I yearn to see someone with acne or crooked teeth cast as the regular Joe they are supposed to be. I’m sure I’m not the only one who has noticed lip filler in period dramas.
It’s worth remembering how exceptional these supposedly normal people are. We live in a time obsessed by image; we’re forever being marketed at, told that if we buy this, eat that and do this torturous exercise, we can look like these “relatable” stars. And it’s just not true. Aside from genetics, few of us can buy access to their products, their experts and the amount of time they spend in pursuit of hotness, as we juggle commutes, work and arguing with a toddler about eating broccoli. It doesn’t help that relatability is big business for media personalities. It’s why they are constantly downplaying the difference between their lives and ours. Asked how he got in shape for the shoot, White told GQ he “ran, jumped rope … did calisthenics [and] ate plenty of fish”. I can’t be sure, but I don’t think it’s unreasonable to suspect a personal trainer or two played a part.
So, let White’s pictures be a reminder that we should not measure ourselves against celebrities, even those that are supposedly just like us, and not waste too much time and money trying to emulate them. Above all else, I’d seriously steer clear of being on any rooftop with your trousers down. I suspect the police might have something to say about that.
Coco Khan is a freelance writer and co-host of the politics podcast Pod Save the UK
