When I was in the sixth grade, my best friend and I had a crush on a boy named Jason. Jason was a year older, and was that intelligent-preppy-nerdy-sweet type of guy who wouldn’t be attractive to other girls for a couple of years. My friend and I had actual conversations where we patted ourselves on the backs for our good taste. How smart, how unselfish we were, to have chosen a boy who was not on the most-sought-after list.
From there I took a whirlwind tour through the debate team, the drama club, the school newspaper. I dated a guy who was in the school musical. I dated the quietest, most sensitive of all the skater boys. Eventually I married a goofy, adorable photojournalist, whose idea of a good time is hooking up a bunch of computers in one room and playing violent video games until four in the morning.
In other words, I have a long history of falling in love with the biggest nerds imaginable.
Even my celebrity/fictional character crushes work this way. My Buffy the Vampire Slayer favorite was Xander, my secret Popular boyfriend was Harrison John. Despite his floppy hair, big nose, and oversized lower lip, I lusted after David Duchovy for years. My well-documented *NSYNC favorite is Lance, for fuck’s sake, and it doesn’t get much more nerdy than that.
Imagine my shock and horror, then, when I found myself all aflutter over Lost‘s resident bad-boy Josh Holloway (Sawyer). Holloway is everything I have always shunned in a celebrity pin-up. For one thing, he looks like a pin-up. To quote Zoolander, he is ridiculously good looking. Everything about him is manufactured for me to lust after, from his wind-swept hair to his tan, bare feet. It’s as if the masterminds behind Lost did this to me on purpose; as if they created him just in case I didn’t like the show itself. Because I’m certainly sticking around to watch Holloway prowl about the island, regardless of what else is going on in the show. Quite frankly, the whole thing makes me feel kind of dirty.
In an effort to rid myself of this shameful crush (even my husband is confused by this unusual turn of events), I’ve decided to make a list of all the things about Josh Holloway that make me weak, just in case confronting the issue is what it’ll take for me to get over it, as if lust required a 12-step program. Let’s start at the top:
- The hair. Even in his modeling days (Christ, I’m lusting after an ex-model!), Holloway had at least relatively long hair. As Sawyer, it’s about chin-length in the front, a little longer in the back. It’s messy, but never looks grimy, even though as a castaway he probably doesn’t have access to shampoo. It is hair designed for sex, perfect for running your fingers through.
- The eyes. I’m sure I could find a fansite somewhere that would give me the exact color, but that would mean I have to give in and go to a fansite, and I won’t stoop that far. On the show, it appears that Holloway’s eyes are some shade of blue-ish gray. He has those long eyelashes that old ladies say are a waste on boys, but actually make him startlingly beautiful. He’s a pro at the intense stare, whether it’s to intimidate or seduce. He can pull off at least half a dozen different cocky eyebrow movements.
- The nose. Oh, yes. Even his nose is perfectly situated on his face. Not that I care, because it’s stupid to be attracted to some guy because of his nose.
- The mouth. Mmm. Perfectly shaped and just made for kissing. The makers of Lost know a good thing when they see it, so Holloway’s character has already had several make-out scenes, both on the island and via flashback. His kiss with Kate, which took place after he’d been tortured by Sayid and was nice and bloody, was one of the hottest moments in television this season, in my humble opinion. Don’t believe me? Go to Lost Media and check out the screencaps from the episode “Confidence Man.” The picture in which you can actually see tongue was the most viewed photo last time I checked.
- The stubble. Even trapped on a deserted tropical island, Holloway’s character has managed to maintain just the right amount of stubble to highlight the hard line of his jaw. (This stubble also frames his mouth in a delicious way.) Most of the men on the island have a little bit of growth going on, but Holloway’s is essential to his character – it makes him a little dirty, a little dangerous, and has women everywhere wondering what it would feel like against their bare skin.
- The torso. Because Holloway is hot, Sawyer spends a lot of time with his shirt off, and a lot of that time dripping wet. I am trying to remember the last time another male castaway took off his clothes, and I can’t think of one. Not that I care, because obviously, I’m a one Lost-guy girl. It would be ridiculous for me to point out all the gorgeous bits of a shirtless Holloway, so I’ll just point out my favorite, which is the bow-shaped space between his collarbones.At this point in my rambling, let me present you with an illustration. (Just in case you’re living in a cave and haven’t seen Lost yet.)
- The arms. Sure, his biceps are bulging, but the real treat here is the forearms. The Lost crew knows this, too, which is why Sawyer is often running around in a button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows. I have a weakness for forearms. I like the way the muscles are usually subtle, but you can still see power in the wrists. I’m going to throw hands into this category as well, and say only that I’m dying to get a glimpse of him holding onto something heavy, just to see all that muscle in action.
- The, um, bit below the waist. I mention this for one reason and one reason only – on the island, Sawyer lives in a pair of jeans, worn just-so around the zipper. There is a fray, a scuff, that I swear is designed just so that I will stare at it and think about sex. No. I swear. It’s true. Also, while we’re on the subject, there have been at least two scenes that I can think of where we’ve been treated to the sight of Holloway without a shirt on – from the back. He has perfect dimples, like thumbprints, just above the swell of his ass. The skin is so smooth and golden.. I hate myself.
- The legs. I have no actual sense of how tall Holloway is, but it would appear that his legs are a mile long. It may just be the jeans. How can a man have hot legs underneath so much denim? I have no idea, but just the suggestion of the muscle in his thighs makes me swoon.
- The feet. I am not a feet person. Ask anyone. Feet kind of skeeve me out. But not Holloway’s feet. Oh, no. His are long and thin and tan and beautiful. If he flopped down next to me on the beach and kicked off his shoes, I would be mesmerized by these feet.
I love the way Holloway, as an actor, has mastered the combination of all that hotness, the Southern drawl, the biting sarcasm of Sawyer. In recent episodes, Sawyer has been almost pleasant, and I’m hoping this doesn’t signal a shift in his character. I actually like the way he’s an asshole, the way he’s always looking out for number one. If this is going to be the guy who leads to my undoing, I want him to take me kicking and screaming – no Mister Nice Guy for me. Somehow it makes me feel less dirty.
As I look over my list, I’m realizing a sad truth about myself: making a list was a bad idea. As a hyper-organized person, seeing it all laid out like this just makes me like him more, as if my own organization skills have been transferred onto Josh himself. At least I took the first step and admitted I have a problem. Knowing is half the battle. Etc.