If you follow me on Twitter you’ll have seen a flurry of tweets when One Direction appeared on the X Factor final. And then again when I watched the 1D movie over Christmas.
I almost want to slap myself for tweet after tweet which flew from my fingers to remark on the effect “that they have on my underwear” *cringe* and in these spaces of time I concluded that whilst drooling over the 21 year old-ish boys rocking a dishevelled look with arms covered in tattoos and sporting positively offensive amounts of facial hair that I am in fact – a cougar.
The word has been banded about over the last couple of years with the likes of Demi Moore and Caroline “LEGS UPTO HERE” Flack fronting the campaign due to their penchant for a younger gentleman and at the ripe old age of *cough* 26, I find myself holding my hands up and giving in to the word. I find that I have begun to develop “celebrity crushes” on toy boys with smiles to break a thousand teenage hearts. There’s just one problem – I aren’t a teenager, and I haven’t been for quite sometime.
I’ve always been a lover of BOYbands. Before One Direction there was Boyzone, A1, Let Loose, 911, D Side, Backstreet Boys, NSync and of course, Westlife (ILOVETHEMTHEYREMYTHINGLETITGO)
I’ve come up with this theory that during creation where we developing attributes such as hair colour, I think some people are born with a boyband gene. & I’m one of those people. When I was younger I couldn’t see a group of males in a band without metaphorically “losing my sh!t” and covering my bedroom walls with their posters. Over the years, I’ve lost the posters and my music tastes have devloped somewhat, but I seemingly cannot stop developing crushes on boyband members. When you’re younger boyband members are likely to be older than you, thus making the crushes acceptable, but when you find yourself getting older and the boybands are getting younger… that’s when you’re falling in cougar territory.
You’d think there would be a trigger in my head that gives me a mini electric shock every time I have illicit thoughts about a male who’s considerably younger than myself. Yet every time One Direction are on the TV, this trigger seems to fail and I find myself playing 1 out 5, a take on one out of one hundred where you basically decide how many people you’d imaginarilyy sleep with. So far I’ve concluded that my number would be 5 out of 5. It was originally 1 out of 5 (Harry). Then 2, then 3, then 4 and now as they’ve all hit attractive maturity, been inked, grown facial hair (I’m looking at you Louis Tomlinson) and basically become men, I’m at the point where I wouldn’t kick any of them out of bed for eating digestive biscuits. Even my own mother declared that her number was 2 out of 5 (she likes Harry and Zayn).
The thing is, I wish it stopped there and then I could say that it was some freak 1D occurrence, but its not. I’m finding that as I get
older more mature, my taste in men is getting considerably younger (hold your horses before you shake your head in disgust with me, as my Facebook timeline pointed out, they’re not technically *that* young and they’re all in fact legal). This is branching out into real life and I’m beginning to find myself attracted to younger men more and more.
I’m not sure whether younger men are getting more attractive, whether in my head I’m still 21 years old or whether it’s a case of “you’re as young as the man you feel” in the hopes of keeping away the fine lines and wrinkles.
Either way, this picture absolutely floors me.
Look at Louis, Liam and Zayn’s facial hair. Purrrrrrr.