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Mattress-Top Torsos Hot on Beach This Summer

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Buffetbelly

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Man Flab, It’s Fab
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It’s Tubby Time! Vince Vaughn, Jack Black, Leave Buff Bodies to Neutered Narcissists: Mattress-Top Torsos Hot on Beach This Summer

By Sara Vilkomerson

One by one, from Hollywood to the Hamptons, men have liberated themselves from the flat-stomached emo-boy reign of terror. Over the weekend in Westchester, U.S. Open enthusiasts cheered for Phil Mickelson, the golf crowd’s non–Tiger Woods favorite, whose previous winning record coincided with a softly expanding waist line and what one observer near the 18th hole described as “a sweet pair of man boobs.”

Meanwhile, at the movies, New Yorkers escaped the heat to watch Jack Black’s ample ass cavort in stretchy pants in Nacho Libre, and Vince Vaughn’s gutty hotness argue over the semantics of wanting to wash the dishes in The Break-Up.

And on the streets themselves, it seems that everywhere you can see a girl, power-yoga’d into the holy size zero, walking hand in hand with a guy who clearly never met a cheeseburger he didn’t like.

Our men are carrying an extra 10—hell, maybe 15—pounds in the midriff, haven’t even thought about the gym in months, and they are unashamed. Why should they be? The Hollywood box-office draws have stopped looking like the lithe and graceful Orlando Blooms of the world, delicate and emotive and who might possibly weigh less than an average female fan, and instead now look like guys you can recognize as being from the same planet you inhabit, who eat, drink, and smoke what they want, pack on the pounds and still get to regularly bed skinny actresses who can’t remember what carbs taste like. What’s more, the women don’t mind a bit—in fact, some prefer it.

“You don’t want a guy who’s too skinny,” said a young, sporty blonde named Adrienne Rochetti, who lives in the West Village and considers Vince Vaughn a hottie. “If a guy is skinnier than you, then you’re the one that has to go to the gym.”

Danielle, a 22-year-old Upper East Sider who works in public relations, agreed. “In New York, skinny, scrawny guys are often in style—and you’re like, ‘Wow you could be a girl!’”

"IT DEPENDS ON THE SCRIPT, OF COURSE, but overall, for studio pictures, if you’re going to talk about who are the top contenders, you’ll talk about Brad Pitt, George Clooney, Vince Vaughn, Jack Black or one of the Wilson brothers,” said New York casting director Adrienne Stern. “I watched Old School the other night, and I saw those three guys—Luke Wilson, Will Ferrell and Vince Vaughn. The three of them together personify frat boy, and that’s what America wants to see.”

But while America may be embracing the flab, we’re not talking about the boorish, crass and brainless beer boys of lad magazines and The Man Show. The man-flab marquee star is a big lover. He has a heart—perhaps, yes, with massive arterial blockage, but a heart nonethless, one that he wears in his limpid, always somewhat moist eyes. Man-flab must also be distinguished from “fat.” If you imagine a man-flab man with his shirt off, what comes to mind is a sort of doughy mattress, soft but not squishy, and no beer gut. It feels good, not distressing, to get a man-flab hug.

“I think the whole face of American cinema is changing,” said casting director Lisa Beach, whose credits include David Dobkin’s Wedding Crashers (a film in which Vince Vaughn’s character was shown perpetually shoveling entire wedding platters of food into his mouth). She is currently at work on the director of that film’s next project, which has the equally hairy and out-of-shape Paul Giamatti and Vince Vaughn playing brothers. Ms. Beach, who also pointed out that this was only a new development for white boy actors—she cited Bernie Mac’s success as a leading man—said that television paved the way.

“Look at that show”—Still Standing—“with Mark Addy and Jami Gertz, or Ray Romano and Patricia Heaton,” said Ms. Beach. “You see the success of those shows, which have a very attractive, well-put-together woman, in an upper-middle-class kind of way, with the guy who fits in perfectly in his blue-collar existence. I think that’s now starting to translate to features.”

So which came first: our personal man flab, or Hollywood’s depiction of it?
“A movie is a fantasy, and you are taken on a journey,” said Ms. Stern. “You’ll have a better chance of going if someone is on the screen you can relate to.”

“It depends on which audience you are trying to appeal to. If you are trying to get the biggest audience, then you’re looking for the everyman,” said Ms. Beach. Jacked-up Arnold Schwarzenegger? Gone. Musclehead Sylvester Stallone? He is no more. There’s no more grunge-friendly skinny like the early Keanu Reeves, and no stomach as ripped as Brad Pitt’s circa Fight Club. (Well, besides the eerily, almost frighteningly well-built Ryan Reynolds.) The men that women tend to root for are the smart, funny ones, who they could imagine coming home to, who might need a Lean Cuisine once in a while. Indeed, Tom Cruise, who looked like a skinny, crazed teeth-machine in his publicity blitzes for 1) his romance with Katie Holmes and 2) M:I-3, revealed the nasty side of the hypertoned male—and lost more than a few female fans—when he attacked Brooke Shields for taking antidepressants. (Well, they can bloat, you know.)

Heck, even Will Ferrell, who seems to have a pro-nudity clause in his contracts and who is also a serious athlete, still shows the familiar beefiness that we can’t help but find endearing. Check it out: Hollywood heavyweights (ha!) like Russell Crowe, Colin Ferrell and Leonardo DiCaprio—men who certainly have never had any trouble attracting women—have all been puffed up on-screen and, well, in home video. Kiefer Sutherland can save the world from terrorism again and again (and again), but he might not ever lose the soft curve of a belly that gives him a literal and figurative extra layer.

Plus there’s no denying that there is an added sexiness to a man who knows how to enjoy himself, be it with food, wine or women.

“There is a sort of domineering quality that comes with more meat, and that can be very attractive,” said Medaya Ocher, 19, a salesgirl at Steven Alan. “Obvious frailty is never an attractive quality. People describe the Vince Vaughn body type as bloated, but it can also be round, huggable and welcoming.”

Hollywood starlets, on the other hand, shouldn’t hold their breath for a reversal in body image. “It’s never going to stop for women,” said Ms. Stern.



“METROSEXUALITY IS OVER, IF IN FACT IT EVER EXISTED,” e-mailed Men’s Health editor in chief David Zinczenko. But could the local burgeoning of bulge be related to something more important than the death of that whole charade and the fattening of America at large? “This might be wacky,” Mr. Zinczenko suggested, “but you know how skirts get shorter as the stock market booms, and get longer in times of financial worry? I think men’s bellies follow the same rules. When your $500K apartment is suddenly worth $1M two years later, it’s easy to find time to work out and take care of yourself. When the market stagnates, interest rates start to climb and you’re sitting on a 15-year A.R.M. that you can barely afford, you have less time to devote to eating right and staying fit.”

Not so fast, said Joe Barron, founder of Manhattan’s personal-training gyms, Definitions. “When the economy—and remember, my clients are the very affluent—is certain, men work out less. Maybe they feel secure in their wealth and position. When the economy is uncertain or poised for a downturn, they work out a lot more—they worry more about their position and wealth.”

Mr. Zinczenko did point to a biological basis for our belly boomers. “Cortisol, the stress hormone, increases the body’s tendency to store fat. The more stress we’re under, the flabbier we get as a society.”
 

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