My friend, Courtney, and I share the hobby of drooling over dead guys. It sounds weird I know, but…. ok, it’s weird. I take a lot of comfort in knowing we’re not alone. My Daguerrotype Boyfriend is dedicated to the early photographs of hot dead guys.
The first time I realised I crushed on long-gone hotties was during a music history course at university. His name was Gustav Mahler, and aside from composing some of the most beautiful music ever written (am I biased?) and being a total hottie, he also died 75 years before I was born. It wasn’t until I met Courtney that I realised I wasn’t alone in my infatuation.
Gustav Mahler, composer and hot stuff
I discovered heaps of hot dead dudes sprinkled throughout New Zealand’s history.
Barry Brown, NZ boxer and cutie patootie
George Nepia, All Black and alright in my book
Alexander Turnbull, NZ merchant, dreamboat and Keanu Reeves doppelgänger
I suppose fawning over cute dead guys is really no different from a tween plastering posters of Justin Bieber above her bed, but at least I’m forced to learn a little history while I trawl the archives of historic photographs in search of cute boys. Perhaps we should introduce a Cute Dead Guys subject into the curriculum.