I’m new here. I recently arrived from the UK and I’ve been lucky enough to be surrounded by great people that made my move easy, painless and stress-free. On arriving, while I was VERY comfortable dossing on my mates’ sofa, I couldn’t help but notice that it was something on the coffee table that wasn’t sitting well.
It was DNA. Australia’s best selling magazine for gay men. And, there was Stefan Gatt adorning the front cover.
Now, I had perceptions of what guys would look like in Australia. British beer belly they would not be. And, I admit I hit the gym rather hard in London before I relocated because I wanted to be “up to standard”. But, those were my standards – and my aspirations.
This was different. I found myself distracted. How was this dude so perfect? “I’m off to the gym” I announced – “alright, sweets – have a good one”, the response.
For me, the gym’s always been a great place to think. So I got to thinking. I’m not an irrational person. I know that boy on the cover is airbrushed. Either that or he has no pores. What am I doing here benching my own body weight at 8.15 on a Sunday morning?
It kept happening – finding myself in the gym as a result of the bloody coffee table dude. This wasn’t aspiration. This was obsession. I’m in marketing – I should be immune to this type of influence. But what was he selling? Nothing? Himself? The magazine? The magazine. So what’s the positive sentiment of this piece? Is there any takeaway value? Eurgh. Let’s not go there.