I love black and white movies.
I fell in love with Cary Grant and Gary Cooper early in life, through films like Father Goose and the Westerner. The more I watched the more I needed more. More black and white men.
And I soon discovered them, the dazzling, suave and classy men spanning 40 years of classic movie history.
Men who make your jaw drop when they walk into the scene.
Men who make you swoon the second they start to speak and giggle uncontrollably at their wisecracks and slapsticks.
Men who drip with class from their fedora hat to the flower in their lapel to their dark suits to their shiny shoes.
Give me these men who are the true definition of gentlemen.
Give me Cary Grant, who was never afraid of strong, independent women like Sophia Loren and Katherine Hepburn.
Give me Humphrey Bogart, who saw the treasure he had on Lauren Becall and never tried to turn her into something she wasn’t.
Give me Gene Kelly, the charming and talented actor of Judy Garland dreams in The Pirate.
Give me Sidney Poitier as he builds a church in Mexico for German nun in Lilies of the Field.
Give me Gregory Peck as he cons princess Audrey Hepburn but ends up falling for her in Roman Holiday.
Give me Laurence Olivier as the untameable Heathcliff of Wuthering Heights.
Give me Paul Newman as the troubled and proud husband of Elizabeth Taylor in Cat on a Hot Tin Roof.
Give me men who didn’t realize how their smile drive women wide. Who were oblivious to their own charm. Who remained themselves even when fame became an eventuality.
Give me men. Give me hardworking, charismatic, and sexy.