Skip to content

Subscribe to Blog via Email

Enter your email address to subscribe to this blog and you will receive our stories in your inbox.

“My, how you’ve changed”: heartthrobs on the sofa – then and now.

Posted in About Us, Aging, and Life & Love

The Boss
The Boss

Camparigirl and I were wondering what it would take to bring our libidos out of retirement.

It had been a long, fragmented and exhausting week and I was telling her how thrilled I was that no-one was going to expect me to have sex with them that evening. As is our way – we amused ourselves debating who we would ‘get it up for’ should they come knocking. We both voted Bruce Springsteen a ‘must-have’ list candidate, (for me, especially if he would sing “I’m on Fire” before we got behind the wheel) and Claudia mentioned a couple of English actors she thinks are the business … before wondering aloud why those particular guys have always appealed to her.

“Maybe because of the romance novels you read” I said … “you want to be saved – like that Anna K, the Bronte Girls and Emma.”

“It’s possible” she said pithily, “but at least I don’t crush on nasty homophobic rappers.”  A fair point. And one that reminded us that we have never fancied the same man – except for Bruce. We have an honour system with him – should the opportunity present itself, it would be a sin to let it slide by unappreciated. And the quid pro quo would be a blow by blow

All this got us to making lists, as we do – and then comparing the boys we had fancied as girls, and the men we fancy as women. So we thought we would share them.  As the ad once said: we’ve come a long way, baby!

This slideshow requires JavaScript.


I was a child of the sixties – so my crushes came towards the end of that decade and the beginning of the seventies. They were all musicians, I used to listen to the Top Twenty Countdown every Sunday on my little transistor radio. And pull the posters out of my Jackie Magazine. Plastering them on my walls.

We moved city every 18 months or so – and my guys came with me. Watching over the awkward, blunt girl when she braved new schools. My first love was Donnie Osmond – “And they called it …. puppy loovvveeeee ..”. He was replaced by David Cassidy, who thought he loved me. Dave handed the baton to The Sweet and “Ballroom Blitz” – which I choreographed into a funky diso dance, moves I still use today.

The Bay City Rollers ended my pop phase with their cover of “Bye Bye Baby”. Because, by then, I was in love with the Thin White Duke. Bowie changed everything for me – I got “Space Oddity”, I lived it. I worshiped Ziggy -spiders and all. And then I heard Roxy Music and Mr Bryan Ferry and I was in love.  Oh – my jealous, jealous guy.

My choices for now are interesting because they are very specific: Dominic West (as he is in The Wire) and Matt Damon (as Jason Bourne – not as the guy who bought the Zoo). My wild card is Fifty Cent: who I met once and who was chaaaaarrrrmmmming .. and sexy.  And yes, Claudia you are right about the nasty lyrics – I gave him a hard time about that, he just smiled and kissed my hand. And Mr Sam Shepard (in jeans and T, Bruce Weber cowboy style) – who I sat next to in Tribeca Grill once, and who smiled at me. Well played, Sam.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.


Camparigirl:  My very first crush unsettled my life at age 8: his name was Leandro,  a Neapolitan boy a couple of years older than me with blue eyes and golden locks. Despite the vivid memory of how he looked and how my heart skipped a number of beats every time I saw him, my attraction for blond men died  shortly after, with Bjorn Borg, at age 13. I was virtually obsessed. I subscribed to a tennis magazine so I could cut out photos of my idol and plaster them on the wall over my desk, a morbid altar to my (not so) secret love. I even enrolled in tennis classes, using both my hands for the backhand shot, the way Borg did it. The only thing I was good for on a tennis court was looking cute in my short skirt, and I admitted defeat after a miserable year trying to master a sport clearly beyond my abilities.

Then, music took the place of everything else  and, those being the 80s, pretty boys like Adam Ant, Simon LeBon and George Michael took turns piquing my fantasy. None of them, lookwise, are men I would find vaguely interesting today. George was even my neighbour when I lived in Kensington but I never caught a glimpse of him (at the time still refusing to believe he was gay, despite sofagirl’s inside scoop).  The one I caught a glimpse of, or, I had a very good look at, was Jeremy Irons who appeared on my doorstep one afternoon, looking for my eccentric and bedridden landlady. He might have started me on the brooding, tortured type I still fancy today.

When compiling this “for a laugh” list with sofagirl, all my picks turned out to be either English or Irish – with the exception of Springsteen. She might be right – my imagination is steeped in English literature. Last night I finished “Bringing Up the Bodies” by Hilary Mantel and I feel slightly adrift, missing Thomas Cromwell in my life.

From pop to historical figures dead 500 years – have I gotten old!

Share on Facebook

14 Comments

  1. silvia
    silvia

    girls your libidos has not retired, simply taking a nap

    June 19, 2013
    |Reply
      • Sofagirl
        Sofagirl

        Well, all I can say is mine is that waking mine is going to require an extraordinary wake up call.

        June 21, 2013
        |Reply
  2. After living in South Africa for four years, we moved back to the U. S. At twelve, I was awkward, chubby, with a South African accent and didn’t make friends easily. So I would come home and watch TV after school. There was an Elvis movie marathon month. I fell in love. Deeply. Fully. After watching more than ten movies, I told my mother I wanted to go to Hollywood and find this actor and marry him. She laughed, “honey, he doesn’t look like that–in fact, he’s dead.” I was devastated.

    June 17, 2013
    |Reply
  3. Loved the post, loved the pics. So glad you included Jeremy Irons & Alan Rickman. Sigh ….

    June 16, 2013
    |Reply
  4. Mine were, please reserve judgement – Declan Donnelly (of Ant and Dec), Peter Andre (I know, alright? You don’t need to say it), Nick from the Backstreet Boys and…. Arnold Schwarzenegger. Just don’t. Don’t say anything. Don’t even reply, in fact. My shame is too great.

    June 15, 2013
    |Reply
    • AH HA HA HA – love it. Blimey girl!

      June 15, 2013
      |Reply
    • I admire your courage. And will never be able to look at my former Governator (!) the same way again……you know, I see him around town shopping now and then. Not a pretty sight.

      June 15, 2013
      |Reply
  5. Glenis
    Glenis

    Susie – do you remember when we bumped into Brian Adams at the Conran Shop in Chelsea one Saturday morning and you told him to “lose the hat”. How we laughed afterwards sharing a slice of that fabulous Italian Cake (cannot remember its name or spelling – Pied Montese???) and a coffee at Habitat on Kings Road. Love You Girl.

    June 15, 2013
    |Reply
  6. OMG. This was a nice trip down memory lane. Oh my. Oh my. Oh my. I crushed on them too in my younger years. James Bond though… still fresh… hmmm

    June 15, 2013
    |Reply
  7. Janet Rörschåch
    Janet Rörschåch

    LOVE ThIS! Davy Jones, Jeremy Northam, almost anyone with a British accent.

    June 15, 2013
    |Reply

Got some thoughts? We would love to hear what you think

%d bloggers like this: