In deep and necessary appreciation of Armie Hammer — and his beautiful thighs
On Thursday, as families across the nation pause to give thanks for the delicious drumsticks in front of them, I too would like to offer up a heartfelt paean to a pair of legs recently revealed to me: the thighs of film actor and national treasure Armie Hammer.
Monday morning, the photoshoot accompanying Hammer’s Hollywood Reporter cover story hit the internet. He’s enjoying a moment in the sun, thanks to his star turn in Luca Guadagnino’s gorgeous gay romance film, Call Me By Your Name.
Hammer is pictured in repose in his cover shot, swaddled in a ribbed tank. In a clear metaphor for the advent of his celebrity, he is breech birthed onto the cover, legs first. At 6 feet 5 inches, much of the cover is given to his formidable legs, splayed, in the babiest of blue trousers. In another shot (bottom right below), he’s pictured poolside, in tiny trunks that bring to mind the ‘80s setting of Call Me By Your Name.
If you are somehow unfamiliar with Call Me By Your Name, it’s a gay romance film, and one that seems like it has been on the festival circuit, garnering accolades and “coming soon,” from time immemorial. Not to spoil the movie, but Hammer’s character does a lot of swimming in vintage trunks. Like, a lot. That movie is mostly swimming and biking in short shorts, if my memory serves me. The film is finally out in theaters, and the fandom is understandably abuzz.
A certain corner of Twitter (the gay one) lost their damn minds over this leg-heavy photoshoot. One assumes each enraptured tweet was composed through heaving breathing. The praise seemed centered on his gams.
Reader, I assure you my Armie Hammer thigh appreciation is not your run-of-the-mill objectification or Tex Avery wolf whistling; this all very on the up and up. As a very tall person, I feel seen and validated by the rise of the Armie Hammer thigh discourse.
Full disclosure: I am over 6 feet 5 inches (but not 6 feet 6 inches, I can buy regular pants in a regular store, thank you). My body type is, shall we say, leg-forward. I am more leg than I am torso, and at times, have felt more leg than person. I am a gay Waluigi, and I often get self conscious when warm weather dictates I bare my legs.
It’s nice then, to see a tall person in the public eye be so limb-confident, and to be praised for it. Hammer’s stems aren’t ‘roided out, over worked, straining against of the fabric of his slacks. They’re just there, lounging poolside, catching rays — and catching your eye.
Being very tall isn’t always all it’s cracked up to be. Most days, it’s a lot of hitting your head on low-hanging branches, and grabbing cereal from high shelves for everyone at Whole Foods. It’s a lot of hoping you can let the hem out, and claiming your short jacket arms are just “a bracelet sleeve.” Some days, it’s every single stranger you encounter gawking and asking you just how tall you are. It’s letting your friends go up front at a concert, and hanging in the back because you don’t want to get booed by a crowd, again.
But Armie Hammer? That man embraces his height, and embraces his legs, all 4 1/2 feet of them. People are loving him for it, and I, for one, am thankful. If Armie Hammer feels confident enough to throw on some coochie cutters and air out his upper thighs in the Hollywood Reporter, well damn it, so can I.
