Am I Just a Modelizer?

Friday evening. Berlin-Mitte. The bar I’m sitting in is loud, crowded and dark. In one corner, a DJ is playing booming music. In the other, women in expensive dresses are dancing, watched by men in ironed shirts. “Come on! Today we’re looking for one for you!” my friend calls out to me, pressing a gin and tonic into my hand. She almost has to shout for me to understand her. At the same time, a guy leans over to me on the other side. “Believe me, I know my way around shares,” he mumbles clumsily in my ear, “Do you want to come home with me? Then… I’ll tell you a bit more about it.” I roll my eyes. This is definitely not my kind of bar.

While I’m secretly thinking about the best way to make my escape, the door opens at the other end of the room. A guy walks in. Tall, slim, good-looking with distinctive facial features. His black leather jacket is oversized. He’s wearing shorts and cowboy boots with silver buckles. As he strolls to the bar, my gaze lingers on his long, well-toned legs. He’s definitely a model. You can tell. Finally, a guy without a Polo Ralph Lauren sweater on. I down my drink, stand up and approach him.

Everyone has their own taste. That’s really no secret. Some like dark hair, some like light hair. Some like tattoos, some like no tattoos. Wide, narrow, big, small, funny or serious. Man. Woman. Both. It doesn’t matter. I like handsome, tall guys. Handsome and with a sense of fashion. Whether I like it or not, I often end up with – well – models.

I even do a test on the internet: what type of man are you best suited to? It doesn’t sound very scientific, but it still confirms my suspicions. The result: Mr. Big Boss. Handsome, ambitious, intelligent and “simply to melt away”.

In the past, I have certainly often been judged for attaching great importance to appearance. But is it really that superficial? Should I be ashamed of it? Should I reconsider my values? After all, if you like models, it automatically means that character doesn’t matter to you. Or does it? After all, “the beautiful man smells of vanity and narcissism.” At least that’s what author Ulrich Renz writes in his book “Beauty: A Science in Itself” (org. “Schönheit: Eine Wissenschaft für sich“).

Whether vain, narcissistic or simply naive – the concept of beauty has always been a topic of fascination. Even in ancient Athens, there were daily beauty contests between men. Completely naked, of course. And in this sense, not even the Bible is as innocent as one might initially assume. In the Old Testament, the chosen ones such as Saul and David are characterized by beauty. It is only in the New Testament that appearance no longer plays a role and is no longer mentioned. From then on, of course, only the spirit counts.

All of a sudden, everyone seems to act all sanctimonious. When you talk to someone about what they like, they always say, ‘Oh, as long as the character is right.’ The inner values are all that matter to fall in love. After all, anything else would be gross, superficial, and arrogant. To be honest, I don’t believe a word of it. I think people just want to seem more ethical than they really are. Everyone has preferences. Everyone is more attracted to certain features than to others. It’s human. At least I’m honest about it.

Today, beautiful people could still be described as the “chosen ones” like in the Old Testament. Not directly sent from heaven, but pretty privilege is real: “It’s not that models don’t have a brain. They have one. They just don’t have to use it.” So says a man named Nick in the first season of the cult series Sex and the City. In this episode, journalist and style icon Carrie Bradshaw deals with the phenomenon of the so-called modelizers: people who only date models. Overall, the stereotype of both male and female models is portrayed as if they are too stupid to hold a normal conversation. An image that is not only untrue but also dripping with clichés.

In that episode Mr. Big. No, not Mr. Big Boss, my proven dream man, but John James Preston, alias Mr. Big. Tycoon, a magnet for women, answers her question about the model hunter phenomenon: “So, what’s so wrong with loving beautiful things?”

Exactly. What’s so wrong with loving beautiful things? I’ve been asking myself that all along. But to explore this further, you should perhaps ask yourself why you like what you like. When you meet a person in real life, there are several factors that make them seem either attractive or unattractive. But considering this, how does online dating even work? After all, you can see the appearance but not the attitude, not the mimic, the gestures. Everything depends on a picture.

Apparently, there’s the low-effort effect in today’s way of online dating: it’s better to meet for a coffee than for a drink or a meal after work. That way, you don’t waste a free evening that you could be spending with friends, and you’ll be gone again more quickly. You don’t have to make an effort; you still have match no. 4 and match no. 5 anyway. When I use Bumble or Hinge, I personally try to avoid this low-effort effect. I know for a fact that the likelihood of me really wanting to meet up with a match or write a lot with them is very low. It’s simply too exhausting. That’s why I only swipe right on guys who are in my opinion really attractive. Only then it’s worth the effort for me, as silly as that sounds. So, is online dating perhaps to blame for the fact that I now pay so much attention to external beauty?

Either way, if you feel attracted to someone, you should pursue it. After all, everyone deserves to be with someone they really like. No matter what others say. Whether that ends up being a model, a teacher, an astronaut or a mermaid – it doesn’t matter. I’m definitely not going to lower my standards just because others say it’s superficial. After all, I deserve the best for myself too.

In my opinion, it’s like Mr. Big says at the end of the Sex and the City episode: “There are some damn fine women in this town. But in the end, you want to spend your time with the one who makes you laugh.”