Is the Beefcake Back?

Raise your hand if you’ve ever felt personally victimized by a man who resembles a sickly Victorian child. (Be honest. This is a safe space.)

If your hand is in the air, let it be known that one, you may be entitled to financial compensation, and two, you’re not alone. For years — more specifically, the last three — romances involving Timothée Chalamet, Travis Barker, and their many, many lookalikes have reigned supreme. Ever since head-scratching power couple Megan Fox and Machine Gun Kelly exploded onto the scene in 2020 (while drinking each other’s blood, no less), it’s like a spell has been cast on the entire population, turning us away from the traditional heartthrob in favor of the moody artistic type (think: shaggy-haired pretty boy who supplements his income by dancing on TikTok). 

But while the famous female gaze may have shifted its focus to men like Harry Styles, John Mayer, and (dare I say) Michael Cera in recent years, as always, the pendulum swings, and it seems the times are once again changing.

To put it plainly? The beefcake is back, baby.

Unless you’ve managed to completely avoid the internet in the past month (including but not limited to social media, NFL coverage, all news outlets, and the Empire State Building), then you’ve likely seen or heard about the most notable purveyor of this shift, Miss Taylor Alison Swift, getting hot and heavy with beefcake poster child, Kansas City Chiefs tight end Travis Kelce. 

Their romance unfolded as follows: Boy goes to the Eras Tour to watch Girl “rock the stage” at Arrowhead. Boy shoots his shot with Girl via a friendship bracelet and a podcast. Girl shocks the nation by showing up at Boy’s football game with his mom. Boy and Girl go public holding hands; Saturday Night Live, Brittany Mahomes, and mustache enthusiasts everywhere benefit greatly.

Now, I know you may be thinking that one budding celebrity couple does not a new internet boyfriend make, but that’s where you’d be sorely mistaken. You see, this isn’t just any girl pursuing someone she “wouldn’t normally go for.” This is Taylor Swift. A woman whose highly-publicized dating history not only includes stints with the aforementioned Styles and Mayer but a six-year relationship with British actor Joe Alwyn, the antithesis of Travis “I'll Take It From Here” Kelce’s all-American, Super Bowl-winning, 250-pound self.

But beyond just serving as a fun new fling for Swift, this seemingly innocuous move from artist to athlete marks a full-fledged cultural phenomenon. Suddenly, the same girlies who couldn’t have cared less about sports are live-tweeting Sunday night football games. Alix Earle is showing us how to cut up jerseys to wear while cheering on her “Mr. NFL Man,” and we’re taking notes. Everyone’s thirsty for the Athlete boyfriend blueprint, David Beckham, again. I’m asking my 26-year-old boyfriend if it’s really too late for him to go pro. 

It’s almost as if those years we spent pining after brooding soft boys never happened. And while we obviously know athletes are no strangers to the limelight, do we really know why we're all hungry for beefcake?

In Taylor’s case, at least, her interest in Kelce seems like the classic post-breakup rebound: It didn’t work out with this specific male archetype? Might as well try the complete opposite! After all, there are worse things than going from a private relationship with a sensitive British actor to entering what may very well be the most public romance in recent memory — especially with one of the best tight ends to ever grace the NFL (regardless of whether she put him on the map or not). It’s almost like she predicted this exact scenario happening, wrote about it in Midnights’ “Bejeweled," and is just now following it up with a cheeky but firm, “Did I stutter?”

As for the rest of us, who knows why we’re no longer immune to a man in a (sports) uniform? Maybe we’re starting to realize that those insightful, mysterious men we once desired weren’t really so insightful and mysterious after all. Maybe we’ve been reading too many Colleen Hoover romance novels. Or maybe, just maybe, we're all so touch-starved that something as simple as a suave, successful man holding his partner's hand was enough to irreversibly alter our brain chemistry, kick-starting a complete beefcake revolution in the process.

Whatever the reasoning, I say let the players play, let the haters hate, and let the record show that I, for one, am very much here for it.