Oh wow, it’s summer in New York and look who Leonardo DiCaprio is riding bike with. It’s this model. You know. The blonde one. Tall and pretty. White tank top and cute jeans. Not Gisele. Not Bar. Not Blake, not Erin, not Toni. The one who’s in Sports Illustrated. Oh – how can I make her more distinguishable?
This isn’t a snarky gossip blog (which I leave in much more capable hands). I also don’t write about 40 year-old Leo’s ways of seemingly only dating models under the age of 28 (better 26), or his way of partying with his infamous Pussy Posse (they’re no longer there under the name, but they still are at the same time). But I read this article on Leo’s newest flame, who of course is an accomplished woman and witty and the overall best in the NY Post. They make her the best, because she is the Cool Girl™, she is the ultimate Amy Dunne.
The makings of the perfect partner
So, what does it take for the NY Post to essentially embody the perfect girl?
I just stumbled over this sentence myself. First of all, it bothers me to talk about a girl, when she’s clearly a grown woman. A girl reduces women to a sort of implied cuteness, not yet an adult, not yet a woman.
Back to the article. To be categorized as the perfect girl then, one must have:
- the body of a “bikini babe” ⇨ catalogue measurements, which suggest an ample bosom (not too large, but you know), tough and fit, but still soft and round
- but not be the “average bikini babe” ⇨ she has a degree guys! From an elite university, Georgetown University, even
- be “quick-witted”, which she described herself as in an interview with Esquire
- also be an “incredible conversationalist” ⇨ she has an open personality and can small-talk easily, so take her to hang with your boys or/and your parents!
- be a tomboy ⇨ her favourite outfit is a “jeans and t-shirt combo.”
- “When she came into the office, she floored us immediately,” recalls MJ Day, editor of the Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Issue. Arriving at the magazine’s Midtown offices dressed in a white tank top and denim shorts, she says Rohrbach immediately stood out from the 100-odd swimsuit hopefuls who walked through the doors.” ⇨ suggesting she’s different to your average model
- know to do to anything athletic ⇨ she played golf, so she grew up in a competitive environment; was her “dad’s wingman on the course” and “was one of the guys hanging out at the golf course”
- she comes from a private all-girls school ⇨ even more competitive, because she’s had to stand out from the most privileged and precious girls from other private-school attendees
- be able to “hang with the guys” ⇨ she says so herself, “And I can hang with the guys. I’m pretty relaxed, and nothing really offends me. I think everything’s funny, to be honest.”
In sum, “she’s the cool chick. And she’s well-educated. You can see it the moment she walks into the room. She’s your perfect dinner guest. She wants to know about you and how your kids are,” she says, adding, “but all eyes are on her right now. The world is her oyster.” It’s not mentioned once, but several times, how she is able to hang with the boys. For a guy like Leo, or at least the way he wants to be portrayed (have you seen him dance? What a man) and is portrayed by the media, his clique/entourage is important to him – so the woman, no girl, better be able to handle them.
The illusion of the Cool Girl
Let me take you back to the “Cool Girl Monologue“:
Men always say that as the defining compliment, don’t they? She’s a cool girl. Being the Cool Girl means I am a hot, brilliant, funny woman who adores football, poker, dirty jokes, and burping, who plays video games, drinks cheap beer, loves threesomes and anal sex, and jams hot dogs and hamburgers into her mouth like she’s hosting the world’s biggest culinary gang bang while somehow maintaining a size 2, because Cool Girls are above all hot. Hot and understanding. Cool Girls never get angry; they only smile in a chagrined, loving manner and let their men do whatever they want. Go ahead, shit on me, I don’t mind, I’m the Cool Girl. Men actually think this girl exists. Maybe they’re fooled because so many women are willing to pretend to be this girl. For a long time Cool Girl offended me. I used to see men – friends, coworkers, strangers – giddy over these awful pretender women, and I’d want to sit these men down and calmly say: You are not dating a woman, you are dating a woman who has watched too many movies written by socially awkward men who’d like to believe that this kind of woman exists and might kiss them. I’d want to grab the poor guy by his lapels or messenger bag and say: The bitch doesn’t really love chili dogs that much – no one loves chili dogs that much! And the Cool Girls are even more pathetic: They’re not even pretending to be the woman they want to be, they’re pretending to be the woman a man wants them to be. Oh, and if you’re not a Cool Girl, I beg you not to believe that your man doesn’t want the Cool Girl. It may be a slightly different version – maybe he’s a vegetarian, so Cool Girl loves seitan and is great with dogs; or maybe he’s a hipster artist, so Cool Girl is a tattooed, bespectacled nerd who loves comics. There are variations to the window dressing, but believe me, he wants Cool Girl, who is basically the girl who likes every fucking thing he likes and doesn’t ever complain. (How do you know you’re not Cool Girl? Because he says things like: “I like strong women.” If he says that to you, he will at some point fuck someone else. Because “I like strong women” is code for “I hate strong women.”))
Again: I’m more interested in the depiction of the woman than the snark-aspect. But you see the resemblance to the illusion of the Cool Girl, right? For a proper man like Leonardo DiCaprio, who saves the world as an environmentalist, is the actor of his generation and likes to party on yachts there is only one perfect partner, and that’s the babe, who is intelligent, but still can hang with the boys and down a good ol’ pint of beer. Well done, NY Post.