The Male Sex Symbol Deserves a Comeback

You know them. You love them. If you’re being honest, you get a little hot and bothered by them. I’m not talking about the guy who finally texted you back. I’m talking the male sex symbol, baby. After exploring what makes a female sex symbol an icon a few weeks ago, I thought it wouldn’t be right to leave the men out. You know, equality. Or something like that. They deserve their time in the spotlight. Preferably with their shirts off. The male sex symbol is such a cultural fixture that People honors it every year with its Sexiest Man Alive issue. Even if some of us had to Google this year’s pick, Noah Wyle . We appreciate the spirit of the tradition. I’m not above a little male objectification. And unless you don’t have eyeballs, neither are you. The hotties of today are not your mother’s sex symbols. Between Jacob Elordi making me feel things in Wuthering Heights , Sombr’s strategically placed “SEX” belt at the VMAs, and Off Campus altering my brain chemistry, I realized I may have had Gen Z wrong all along. Here I was thinking they were about safe spaces and trigger warnings. Little did I know, they were busy bringing sexy back. But the hotties of today are not your mother’s sex symbols. The men who make history with their hotness are so much more than a pretty face, cut abs, or a smirk that makes us forget our own names. What they represent unlocks something so much deeper. They embody raw masculinity in a way women naturally desire and men aspire to be. And for that, they’re timeless. Unlike Harry Styles, Clint Eastwood wouldn’t have been caught dead in a dress. With his intense gaze, rugged demeanor, and unmistakable nonchalance, he made the cowboy silhouette synonymous with the strong, silent type. Paul Newman had those gorgeous baby blues and striking good looks paired with a mischievous confidence that made him hard to look away from and even harder to forget. He struck a rare balance of tough yet playful, charming yet elusive. James Dean was the brooding bad boy whose restlessness, vulnerability, and refusal to fit in made rebellion itself sexy. Then there was Elvis, the King of Rock ’n’ Roll, whose swagger, gyrating hips, and smoldering looks brought a bold, playful sexuality to the stage otherwise unheard of at the time. The man performed with such abandon, confidence, and a hint of danger that he could practically impregnate a woman with eye contact on demand. From the 1950s through the ’70s, these men gave us different but equally unforgettable and irresistible versions of male sex appeal. They didn’t just captivate the masses of their time; they helped define the era. Whether they’ve aged or passed on, they’re cemented in our collective libido at their peak. They were unapologetic, secure in their power, and never seemed to overexplain themselves. They had a strength that was magnetic, addictive, and impossible to replicate. These men expanded our idea of masculine presence and crystallized the fantasy of it, unleashing something fiercely primal in women. These men expanded our idea of masculine presence and crystallized the fantasy of it, unleashing something fiercely primal in women. It is quite telling that some of the closest ones in today’s world are not as traditionally masculine, are more gender-bending, and may even be caught next to you getting a pedicure. Maybe the common thread isn’t a particular brand of rugged masculinity, but the confidence to embody it on their own terms. The harder question is who our granddaughters and great-granddaughters will revere in the Hot Hall of Fame. Mark Wahlberg’s Calvin Klein underwear ad and Brad Pitt’s portrayal of Achilles in Troy deserve their respective Sex God Statues in the Louvre. But is an unforgettable image enough to make someone a lasting icon? The same question I asked about Sydney Sweeney versus Marilyn Monroe applies here: Will today’s heartthrobs become forever part of our cultural fantasy, or will they remain exceptionally hot reminders of a particular moment? I’ll admit there’s a double standard that lives in my own head, and perhaps in society. Writing this, I was initially much quicker to crown the men icons than I was the women. For the female sex symbols, being hot, famous, and desirable wasn’t enough. I looked more closely at what exactly allowed them to cross the threshold into coveted legend territory. What made each unforgettable, what she represented, and whether her influence would transcend her time. With the men, I saw a brooding face and a leather jacket open to a bare chest and was ready to hand over an award. Thirsty? Perhaps. Or maybe it’s something else. Maybe women are so commonly sexualized that being sexy alone has become less impactful. Hot women are everywhere: social media feeds, TV screens, and probably coming out of your sewer like Pennywise the clown. For better or worse, a woman has to be a true unicorn to stand apart and reach icon status. A man with unabashed sex appeal is a rarer occasion, which is why the participation trophy feels more warranted. I’d like to think I’m holding men to a higher standard than that. But it’s worth asking: Do we expect an enduring female symbol to be someone we admire or aspire to be, while a male icon merely has to be someone we want to climb like a tree? Then there’s the culture itself. With every celebrity manufactured and available for 24/7 consumption, are we even capable of creating icons with that kind of staying power? Clint Eastwood didn’t have to post his morning routine or protein powder discount code. Marilyn Monroe didn’t have to explain herself in a crying car video. Would they have become the same larger-than-life figures if they’d emerged today? A classic sex symbol gives us room to fantasize. He might awaken our wild side while also making us feel protected. We project our desires onto him, filling in the blanks with our own imagination. He gives us permission to feel something we’ve been told to keep to ourselves. In a world that’s spent so much time picking apart and watering down masculinity, perhaps we’re no longer capable of making another true sex symbol. In a world that’s spent so much time picking apart and watering down masculinity , perhaps we’re no longer capable of making another true sex symbol. But we need to. We crave that inspiring embodiment of the traditional, classic, primal manly qualities that have always been powerful and always will be. A reminder of what makes masculinity worth celebrating: strength, confidence, and a man who knows exactly who he is. The next great male sex symbol will be the one who shows up like a real man. He won’t need to explain it. We’ll feel it. Decades from now, when the feeds have refreshed and the thirst traps have faded, who will we still be swooning over and fantasizing about? Whoever he is, he’ll have the rare gift of making us feel more like women. And he’ll keep doing it for generations to come.