Once upon a time, I had a pretty friend who lived with me in a magical faraway land called College. This friend was sweet and fun, and she loved to go to football games and stay up late. One day, this friend decided that she wanted to be a princess. But she could only do this after going through a magical quest named "Rush". After many secret ceremonies and adventurous nights, she made it through Rush and got to live in a giant castle with other princesses! This castle was called Sorority, and it was decorated in Greek letters. It even had its own private chef who served the princesses delicious meals. Every week the princesses went to date parties and events to celebrate their royalty. They drank magical nectar named alcohol, and at every ball met new princes to be friends with. These princes would eventually write comments to the princesses on a magical mirror that they could both read, a mirror called Facebook. It was through my friend’s enchanted mirror that I discovered the princes. But these princes were not just any men, though. They were special men beamed down from a planet full of tanned, blond, super humans. This planet was called Planet Hollister.
Men from Planet Hollister actually do exist outside of fairy tales, frat houses, and male clothing advertisements for age group 18-25. I recently saw a gaggle of four of them downtown. Or should I say a troop of them? What is the appropriate term for a group of model-esque men, anyway? Either way, this group of guys looked (prettily) confused. Perhaps they were wondering where the camera crews were. Or hoping for a rigorous polo match to start. Or maybe they were all just trying to do a reflective pose at the same time. Because trust me, if any group of people set out to spend the day posing in different places, it was them. But it wasn't just the fact that they're model-ly. It's how they carry themselves, how they look. How they have a cologne force field around them. They are among us, but they are not like us.
Planet Hollister sits (naturally) closer to the sun, so that its inhabitants can soak up every ray of bronze-y golden goodness. As a fellow brilliant anthropologist friend of mine (who also studies Planet Hollister) said: “these men travel in flocks, alternating between high fives, fist bumps, and that upward head jerks as greetings. They sometimes travel on foot, sometimes on moped (always two per scooter).” Their planet can also be referred to as “Planet StrongJaw.” The planet itself is full of beaches and meadows for its inhabitants to pose in. It only rains on the planet when everyone is wearing thin clothing that, when wet, can appropriately show off muscles.
How does one identify a Planet Hollister resident? First and foremost, the defining characteristic: the chin. Their chins are made from some sort of material so strong that the bows of most ships are also whittled from it. This chin is also responsible for slicing through the air, creating an air gradient that effortlessly tussles the luxuriant hair of a Planet Hollister resident. Furthermore, their cheekbones can cut through glass. Their eyes, while of a silky chocolate brown or an oceanic crystalline turquoise, are usually lifeless. They naturally emit the odor of a musky forest through their pores (this odor isn’t real or possible on Earth. Cologne companies, however, have been trying to manufacture and bottle it for years). They have an inherent knowledge of all things related to board shorts, ab muscle definition, and being ridiculously good-looking. They are masters in the art of staring into space thoughtfully, without actually thinking anything. They know two looks: pouty pensive, and pouty happy.
Seeing these men stand before me in the city like a glittering mirage of attractive surf gods was temporarily blinding. It also made me wonder what it would be like to constantly live life inside of an Instagram photo. Should you ever come across such a specimen, take note, for they are a rare and intriguing study. Here's a tip from my field guide: to attract a Planet Hollister resident, the most time-proven and successful greeting call is "Bro".