white boy stock value is at an all-time high
and it's all about their proximity to women of color
welcome to strong feelings! Essays by writers we love, in which they share their most impassioned opinions on a given subject. In today’s strong feelings, writer Steffi Cao pulls back the curtain behind the “white boy of the month” trend.
In the past few weeks, you may have watched Challengers, following the story of Art and Patrick, two tennis players with the faces of liberal arts students, who fight over Zendaya and then almost Lady-and-the-Tramp a churro together.
You may have streamed The Idea of You, and admired the way Hayes Campbell spent five years pining over 40-year-old gallerist and mother Anne Hathaway, singing songs about her on live television and growing out a beard to mark the passage of time.
Maybe you most recently watched Bridgerton, taking great glee in the way Colin Bridgerton foamed at the mouth over Nicola thee Coughlan for eight hours straight. Maybe, just maybe, you opened your social media feeds soon after, only to be met with a barrage of fancams highlighting all of these men in one way or another.
“Me with yalls fav white boy of the month,” one captioned their TikTok fancam of Mike Faist.
The cultural white boy stock value is at an all-time high, and everyone on the social media trading floor is cashing in. Over 38.8 million videos have been posted on TikTok related to the “white boy of the month,” and the search term “white boy of the month” peaked on Google at the beginning of the year. The New York Times Styles section published an article last month titled, “Who Is A Rodent Man?” featuring several of the internet’s favorite white boys who don’t meet Eurocentric beauty standards.
But to claim that the capital of somewhat funky-looking white guy celebs has increased purely because of their looks would be misguided. Their increased value really only enters the market when their work centers around, and largely complements that of, strong, complicated women. Fandoms can only rise when the promotional runs for their work shows them venerating the women they star alongside. Make no mistake: being a white boy does not make you a white boy of the month, and it's a fool’s errand to work under that assumption. The only men who meet the qualifications for this elusive title must be broadly beloved by marginalized communities, and are those who play roles that position them in proximity to — and in reverence of — marginalized women. Especially women of color.
It’s important to note that the very roots of the phrase “white boy of the month” originate from Black women online. The first known usage of “white boy of the month” was in 2011, when user @WhoIsLailaMarie tweeted, “Chris Pine is my white boy of the month. Congratulations homez! If I see u, jus kno its yam city.” The term quickly spread across the internet, with more women of color, and then women more generally, sharing their iterations of the meme.
Black women have been a pivotal force of growing and maintaining all kinds of online fandom, from the global explosion of K-pop and the deification of its idols to the persisting adoration of characters like New Girl’s Nick Miller (played by Jake Johnson). Many recognizable stan accounts, like BIPOCs Love Dylan O’Brien, Ikran Dahir’s @BANG to TANUK and the controversial ClubChalamet, are run by women of color. For it’s these locked-in, disenfranchised people who are the ones that turn these men—who by profession, have a chameleon-like quality, and by nature of being white, are afforded the privilege of being perceived neutrally—from printer paper into Madonnas.
There’s the white boys for those who have long been invested in this game: Timothee Chalamet, Austin Butler, Logan Lerman, Tom Holland. The breakout star sector: Nicholas Galitzine, Jeremy Allen White, Jonathan Bailey, Luke Newton. The newer crop of rising fandoms: Dominic Sessa, Callum Turner, Josh O’Connor. And of course, the heavyweight Irish corner: Cillian Murphy, Barry Keoghan, Paul Mescal, Andrew Scott.
Often these white boys are featured in dramatic, humorous or sexy fancam videos, highlighting the intricacies of their behavior as both characters and actors. Kiaro Bennet, a 17-year-old fancam editor whose TikTok is dedicated to edits of Mike Faist and Hunger Games, says the physicality is one part of the fandom, but the other part is recognizing the talent on screen. “I would say that in the last few years celebs who come across as kind or down-to-earth, whether that’s in interviews or fan encounters, tend to be more popular,” she says. “I do think the white boy fandoms differ. On a basic level people have types, but it’s also on the work they do.”
“It's the charisma and charm that really draws people in,” Brianna, 25, whose TikToks about Bridgerton have tracked over 7 million views, says. “It's not just about looking good physically but knowing what to say and how to say it can make a huge impact and drive fans crazy.”
Most important to this story is the fact that many of these culturally-beloved projects also yoke these men to complex women leads, who are also often non-white. Jeremy Allen White stars alongside Ayo Edebiri in The Bear, with a push-and-pull of creative energy that fans have swarmed around, while the image of Mike Faist crawling towards Zendaya has been screenshotted over and over again online. Memes about Jonathan Bailey clinging to Simone Ashley in Bridgerton persist well into season three. Or, they are positioned to us through women behind the camera (read: not always, but often, Greta Gerwig).
Fans pick apart little mannerisms that could indicate qualities like politeness, consideration, and positive reinforcement. They’re not just physically attractive, but altruistic, too. Videos replay seconds where Luke Newton reached for Nicola Coughlan’s hand during the Australia premiere of Bridgerton season three, or the moment when Noah Centineo deftly moved a bowl of popcorn out of the way during a shot so it would not spill everywhere.
It’s easy to see why there’s a fervor for an ideal romantic partner right now, particularly among those that date men. Dating apps are in the trenches, many Gen Zers are more anxious on first dates in the COVID era, right-wing alpha masculinity is on the rise, terminology like situationships and delusionships abound to describe the gray areas of modern dating. In an age where romance feels more complicated than ever, it is aspirational to have a man be an absolute loser for you, no matter the circumstances. Getting a rose on Hinge is not the dream; what is the dream is a certain love, the boyfriend who would come back for you over and over again, and say absolutely out of pocket shit like, “you are the bane of my existence and the object of all my desires.”
“Need me a loser ass boyfriend that gets ZERO bitches,” one tweeted. “Pathetic men are back,” another said in a TikTok.
Of course, none of this is news, really. There has long been a surplus of venerated white men in Hollywood, who have been molded as attractive heartthrobs in mass media and the interpersonal dating world. However, nothing also speaks to the truth about “white boy of the month” not really being about the boys themselves than the way the title has been reworked to extend to people who objectively do not fall under the category. Michael B. Jordan was controversially dubbed a white boy of the month in 2018. Diana Silvers also addressed being called a white boy of the month. Similar digital strongholds have formed around Charles Melton, Pedro Pascal, and Dev Patel alike. Not just attractive men on screen, but the kind of thoughtful, polite internet boyfriends that the internet wants more of.
“We push for better representation and more authentic portrayals of characters and stories in the media,” Brianna says. “Our presence challenges existing norms and stereotypes within fandoms, prompting discussions and encouraging others to question biases. This helps create spaces where diverse voices and perspectives are valued. I think what people often misunderstand about fandoms is that they might label them as obsessive or immature. In my opinion, fandoms provide an escape and source of connection.”
No offense to these men, but their fandom wouldn’t be the same without the communities that have been built around them for young women of color to find each other in. You know the saying: behind every powerful man is a powerful woman, and those powerful women have access to fancam editing software and three burner Twitter accounts.
loved this! I wrote a similar piece last month on my Substack called "The Exact Science Behind the White Boy of the Month." The range of examples of white boys here was great; the elaboration of how exactly black women, in this instance, do the heavy lifting in popularizing both the term and the men. It speaks to the larger cultural trend of POC (again in this case black women specifically) dictating cultural trends that everyone enjoys and proves that they weren't created in a vacuum.
“and the heavyweight irish corner” made me laugh out loud because damn fangirls really do love the irish