A portion of a new book by, Allison Pearson, details the phenomenon of teenage girls, their relationship with, and fantasies relating to celebrity crushes.
I Think I Love You, tells the story of 13 year old Petra who, along with her best friend, is head over heels infatuated with David Cassidy (from the "Partridge Family;" c'mon...). The two girls not only venture away to David's concert but they also remain steadfast in their conquest to attain every detail of David's life. They know his likes and dislikes, his astrological sign, the names of his parents and stepmother, that his favorite drink is 7-up, that he had a squint and was forced to wear an eye patch and corrective glasses ("...which must have been hard. Harder than for a girl even."), and, well, you get it.
The two die-hards, along with millions of other young ladies in the 1970's were destined to meet, fall in love, and live happily ever after with David Cassidy (or, their ONE adorned celebrity husband). However, like most chic cravings, their dream fizzled and reality sank its cruddy, dank teeth into the hearts of the young glazed-eyed lovers.
Unfortunate? Yes.
Sad? Maybe.
A glaring difference between girls and guys? Without question.
I still remember the MULTIPLE crushes that I held growing-up (hell, with Perez, TheSuperficial, and countless other gossip sites exploiting the near-naked features of Hollywood elite, I still form them today).
I had the spunky and innocent Stephanie from "Full House," the mystically, mesmerizing gaze of Anna Chlumsky in "My Girl," quasi-bitchy, yet fashionably astute Alicia Silverstone in "Clueless" AND those Aerosmith Videos, and, because I don't discriminate against animation, you can toss-in Jasmine ("Aladdin") and Ariel ("The Little Mermaid) to create a one-of-a-kind mental brothel.
However, the key difference between the crushes of pre-pubescent and teenage guys compared to their opposite-of-sex counterparts is not a fantasy of a life spent growing and loving together, it's a longing to see that gorgeous celebrity butt-naked.
A young guy may lack a true understanding of what 'sex' actually is and would, in all likelihood, cower in embarrassment and fear if ever ACTUALLY confronted by his nude starlet. However, he can still confidently infer that an inherent biological puzzle has been solved with the stirring in his groin region and the neurological electrons shooting throughout his brain, affirming his X-rated thoughts.
See, guys don't dwell on the inner-soul of their crushes because they recognize early on that any sort of connection, other than a one night romp, is purely a figment of the imagination.
That is why, to this very day, I preserve my grasp of reality and possess an open invitation to the one celebrity that I have kept sealed in the depths of my mind since I first laid eyes on her. Despite a few breakdowns, children, poor choices in men, and crummy national television performances, I maintain my acute male perspective and refuse to care, or judge.
While the excitement may act as a catalyst for an incredibly "early exit" or, the shock of the event actually occurring, renders me into a mode typically experienced after whiskey and beer; I will state clearly, emphatically, and without hesitation, "Britney Spears (or, Jessica Alba... ok... or, Mila Kunis... January Jones?... yes, Anna Faris, too), my door is ALWAYS open for you."
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