Spornosexual Style
Taylor Zakhar Perez 'Flashdances' in Lacoste's locker room, in a "new expression of masculinity" that is, in fact, very familiar now
To remind us what reflecting the male gaze back onto itself has done to masculinity in the forty years since Nick Kamen stripped in “Laundrette”, here’s Taylor Zakhar Perez, co-star of the ‘gay ‘ - i.e. man-lurve for ladies - 2023 romantic comedy Red White & Royal Blue (with a sequel coming, alas), tarting about for your delectation in his pricey undercrackers.
Doing a Jeremy Allen-White, in other words, but for Lacoste instead of Calvin Klein. Or perhaps, a Heated Rivalry-themed ‘solo’ spot. (And yes, I’m afraid I will be writing about that show.)
In this slutty new campaign for Crocodile men’s underwear, we find Perez alone in the locker room after a workout. We watch him shower - no shy cubicles in Lacoste’s locker room - water beading and bouncing off his pneumatic chest. We continue to stare as he snaps on his tight, white, form-hugging, Lacoste briefs - dancing and cavorting, athletically, sensuously, auto-erotically.
And who wouldn’t be turned on by themselves if they looked like that?
All to an upbeat French pop song on his 1980s Walkman - the retro gadget is because the official inspiration for the ad was Irene Cara’s 1983 hit song-from-the-movie Flashdance.
But Flashdance was a chaste, chilly, overdressed affair compared to this.
The camera, and thus our eyeballs, roll up and down his smooth, shredded abs, pecs, buns and basket, so extremely closely that we can not only smell but taste the expensive bergamot body lotion you know he’s wearing – as TZP gyrates like a male go-go dancer with bills to pay.
Or as the ad copy from Lacoste puts it:
A new expression of masculinity defined by self-confidence, elegance, and freedom of movement. THAT is true Crocodile style.
No, darling, THAT is true spornosexuality.
The punchline to the promo? An old, unattractive, out-of-focus geezer with a mop and bucket walks in and, instead of joining us on the bench, coughs awkwardly – and Perez, embarrassed to discover he has an audience, suddenly stops gyrating and grinding, and smiles sheepishly before shame-facedly slinking off.
As if.
In my gym’s locker room I am that old man. And I can assure you that the young chaps in their designer pants flexing and admiring themselves in the mirror have absolutely no shame. No matter how many times I cough. Or tut.
Perhaps I need to get a mop and bucket.