Hollywood heartthrobs

Hollywood heartthrobs, the one fantasy you can have without getting into trouble! There isn’t a woman alive who hasn’t had an imaginary love affair with one of these screen gods and why not? What’s great is that we have the capacity to love the likely and unlikely of these heartthrobs too.
My love for films comes from the men and women in my family.  My dad introduced me to Clint Eastwood and James Cagney films at a young age.  I didn’t see Clint as a heartthrob back then but his directing skills make him quite sexy now showing imagination and the ability to think outside the box.
My dad’s family moved to England back in the 50’s.  His sister thought she would marry Rock Hudson because he sent her a signed photo of himself and my dad thought he was the next James Dean, white t-shirt turned up jeans and a quiff.  They spent Saturday afternoon’s at the flicks just to escape into a world that they dreamed of being in one day. 
My mum and her sister’s moved here in the 60’s when things where swinging!  The girl’s in their mini skirt’s, beehive hair do’s the higher the better, throwing your knickers at Tom Jones was acceptable and a new breed of actors hit the screens. Girls far from home now had a different view of men and these actors gave them an idea of how they would like their future husband’s to be like.

The actors of previous decades came across as dashing gentlemen, men that would ‘wait for you’. The 60’s and 70’s made way for the daring ‘I will rescue you type’.  I remember my mum having a thing for Burt Reynolds, hairy chest an impressive moustache and jeans so tight you wondered how his voice could ever be that deep!
Al Pacino as ‘Serpico’ does it for me on looks alone, long hair, beard, eyes like deep pools oh, I could go on.  

Intellect and what some  call ‘weirdness’ are the things that make a heartthrob these days. Yes, not only have we evolved as women but these actors we call heartthrobs have evolved with us.
Somehow they seem to know that we need something else from time to time.  
© Michelle Sotiriou 2012

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