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Emily Ratajkowski recently spent some time in Marrakesh. While I don’t know much about Marrakesh itself besides having to Google how to spell it, I do know that she posted some pretty wavy photos that were an interruption from what she normally posts — selfies, promotional posts for her new swim line, and, well, that’s pretty much it.
She even took to Twitter (a rarity for her) to post some additional snapshots from her vacation.
Thanks 🇲🇦 pic.twitter.com/dBnvsp4TL4
— Emily Ratajkowski (@emrata) November 25, 2018
And if you’re anything like me — or my friend Dillon here — you had this reaction:
This dude really just travels the world doing awesome shit with emrata https://t.co/tRq2SjVpKI
— Dillon Cheverere (@DCheverere) November 25, 2018
Now let’s get some facts out of the way before we really dig in here. I’d venture to guess that at least 75% of Emily Ratajkowski’s followers don’t know that she has a husband in the first place. I’d guess that 99.9% of her followers don’t know his name. And I’d also guess that 100% of her followers were absolutely jarred when they came across the photo of this guy looking like a cross between Spencer Pratt and John Duda.
While reflecting on this dude’s existence, I couldn’t stop thinking in terms of that same office trope we’ve heard oh-so-many times before — must be nice. It must be nice to travel the world. It must be nice to be married to an A-List celebrity. It must be nice to engage in sexual relations with Emily Rataj-fucking-kowski. Yeah, whatever, that’s not groundbreaking stuff. If I had a dime for every dude in the world who wanted a shot at Emily Ratajkowski, I’d have enough money to fly Duda first class to everywhere she goes in hopes we could coordinate a makeshift meet-cute.
But again, that’s not why we’re here. That’s not the root of everything.
Where this guy gets off is in his willingness to take a backseat. Like I said, most people don’t know he exists. Most people don’t know he’s her husband, most people don’t know his name, and most people wouldn’t recognize him while he gets pour-over coffee from some bodega in Brooklyn. And that, in and of itself, is the dream.
I once saw a photo of Jeff Bezos – yeah, the dude worth $112 billion — wearing a sticky nametag with “Jeff” written on it. It was attached to a leather jacket that probably pumps new blood into his body while he walks around thinking about how rich he is. But the simple fact that “Jeff” had to wear a nametag was the greatest part about him. He’s just some non-descript bald looking dude who still (somewhat) flies under the radar when it comes to living his every day life. Hell, if I saw him waiting in line at a deli wearing that same leather jacket, I’d be like, “Man, this guy is definitely going through a mid-life crisis right now.” And then he’d choke me with a stack of hundreds before being on his merry way with his Reuben.
If someone asked me if I could have $100 billion and be the most recognizable person on the earth, or I could have $1 billion and no one would know what I look like? I’m taking the latter every single time.
Emily Ratajkowski’s husband? This dude is in the same league, but just without having $100 billion. He gets to live the A-List life without being on the A-List. He gets to jetset with the most sought-after model in the world without having to deal with the bullshit of dodging cameras and paparazzi himself because they’re all pointed at her.
I mean, I don’t want to completely diminish this guy’s existence. He’s not just some schmuck she plucked off the street — he’s an actor, producer, partner in a production company, etcetera and so on. But we have to be honest here in that his main claim to fame is being Emily Ratajkowski’s arm candy.
Are their downsides to this? I mean, maybe? A bunch of guys look at photos of your wife in a bikini every day? I feel like you can get over that. You’re behind the lens of all of her photos? I mean, I’d definitely take that gig — he’s essentially the world’s highest-paid Instagram husband. You look like a troll compared to your wife because she’s a physical specimen? Boo-freaking-hoo.
I’m not one to want to straight-up switch lives with anyone, but this guy is definitely in the running next to George Clooney (Casamigos money!) and Prince Harry. If that’s wrong, then I don’t know what’s right.
Must be nice to be Sebastian Bear-McClard. That’s his name by the way. Yeah, I had no idea either. .