April 20, 2026 |
I usually know within seconds of meeting someone, or even just being in the same room as them, whether I find them attractive or not. Good-looking men are a pretty common sight these days, particularly to anyone with broad physical tastes, but a truly attractive man, one whose impact lingers beyond the physical, remains rare. Yes, he looks good, but there is a confidence about him that does not surpass itself and become arrogance. He has a presence that moderates the temperature of the room when he walks in, a natural warmth and welcoming aura that puts everyone at ease. He is charming and disarming. He makes you laugh.
When he speaks, he sounds like himself and not like anybody else. His voice resonates in your solar plexus.
In Owen, Jesse’s boyfriend in my first novel Rainbow Milk, I set out to create from the ground up someone I considered to be the sexy modern man. He is well-read and eloquent, from a working-class background, a little bit cheeky, a good listener and emotionally intelligent. He looks good and wears clothes that fit but stand off his body, suggesting rather than overtly displaying his shape. He is self-aware and on a journey towards being secure in who he is; he makes mistakes along the way, but owns them and demonstrates integrity and humility. He loves learning and is strong in his understanding of the world, but is prepared to listen and concede. And he has beautiful hands and forearms. You feel the weight of his arm as he drapes it over your shoulder, to both protect and communicate his trust in you.
Men, most of the time, still hold the cards, so those who understand their privilege and challenge it, men who do not weaponise it but uplift and respect others, are to be celebrated. He will vote to protect the rights of those more vulnerable than him, knowing that he is unlikely to lose much. I am romantically attracted to men who understand their privilege and act in a manner that challenges the status quo in their everyday lives; men who do not take their worldview for granted but understand that there are entire universes of experience beyond their own. Much less appealing are the types of men who double down on masculine clichés. They might themselves feel more like men, but from the outside, they appear insecure. A man who is suffering but does not use this as an excuse to descend into incel and other cultures of hate is a good man. A figure of strength is sexiest when he yields.
Misfit (Judd), 2023
How he behaves with other people, especially the many strangers he encounters in everyday life, will show you who he really is. A good man will never disrespect or make judgements about anyone, but will inspire them to show their best. He appreciates the value of being loved and of allowing others to feel seen. His smile, and the integrity in his eyes, are key to this, as is the generosity of his listening ear and his time. His tone is warm. He is unflustered by eye contact, and makes you feel important. You automatically like everyone you meet through him because he attracts good people and maintains lifelong relationships with them. You feel safe around him and know that you can discuss anything with him, even unformed thoughts, and he will respect them, even if he doesn’t initially agree or it challenges what he knows to be true.
He does not perform for other cis men, but he does respect and appreciate women and anyone else regardless of how they identify. And irrespective of where and how he was raised, he understands that he is also the feminine and values and interrogates that within himself.
He does not see women for what the patriarchy wants them to be, but for who they are as individuals. If he has a partner, he will do whatever he can to support the person he loves. If he is a father, he sees the joy in every moment with his child, every memory they create together.
I’ve come this far without speaking much about a man’s physical attributes, because no one is responsible for their genetics, which inform bone structure, skin tone, height, shape and size. But you can tell when a man makes an effort to be comfortable in his skin and make the best of himself, and, conversely, when his efforts are directed towards attracting compliments, especially from other men, as the latter demonstrates insecurity, an unattractive trait, while the former inspires approachability. Self-care is peaceful, vanity is violence. Physical and mental strength aside, there is always a certain softness, a vulnerability, to men who are genuinely sexy. You feel it is possible to penetrate him somehow. He does not mind being seen for who he is and is carefree enough to dance, live in the moment and let go. He walks with pride.
Eating and sleeping well, keeping hydrated and going to the gym to work on core strength, breathing and balance will ensure that his body and mind feel alert and alive and the best they can be for who he is. Not everyone is looking for carved-out musculature, and chasing it might result in people falling in love with his body and not with him. The media tells men as much as it does women what we should think sex appeal looks like and the lie begins there, as sex appeal does not look like anything in particular. The eye represents just one of the five senses. In the case of men, I believe almost all can be sexy if their personalities and attitudes are right and shine through. I’ve fancied men whom many would consider to be physically unattractive against contemporary beauty standards. Personal hygiene and grooming are all I ask; the rest is all about what’s underneath.
Taíno Mendez is a novelist and critic, and the author of ‘Rainbow Milk’. Artwork by David Lock. Taken from 10 Men Issue 63 – Classic, Craft, Nostalgia – out NOW. Order your copy here.
