#83: Guest Post – Considering My Crushes
Written by Collette Philip – founder of multi-award-winning anti-racist brand consultancy, Brand by Me and writer of Substack ‘Doing The Work’
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This guest post series is a space where writers in my community think about their crushes on celebs, fictional characters, or, indeed, our next-door neighbour, weaving cultural critique with personal longing. It’s a space where obsession, admiration, and projection are all welcome.
This piece is about 80s British television star Matthew Kelly, pop superstar Michael Jackson and the cultural ubiquity of whiteness.
‘Considering My Crushes’ by Collette Philip, founder of multi-award-winning anti-racist brand consultancy, Brand by Me, who also writes the Substack ‘Doing The Work’
The earliest crush I can remember having was on Matthew Kelly, the host of an 80s game show on UK television, “Game for a Laugh”. I do not remember a thing about that show except that I LOVED watching Matthew Kelly, and when I eventually met him aged six at London Zoo, I was terrified because he was much, much taller than he looked on TV.
I burst into tears and that was that. I never watched the show again, mostly because my parents loved to tease me about that moment.
[Image description: Matthew Kelly wearing a bright red jumper with a shiny bowtie at the collar. His face is arranged into his signature comedic deadpan expression]
He was funny, tall and seemed genuinely nice. And if I reflect now, he was also that clean-cut brand of whiteness that is deemed wholesome. My other 80s crushes were similar. Pop star Shakin’ Stevens and Paul McCartney had that same public persona, and they were also white.
The one exception was Michael Jackson, who I LOVED in his ‘Off the Wall’ to ‘Thriller’ years. Cheeky, funny, charismatic and creative, he had all of the traits of my typical crushes and he was Black. My brother and I had one VHS tape about him and we wore it out. We couldn’t get enough of the stories about him growing up, his early TV appearances, his rise to fame. And we LOVED singing along to his music. I (unknown to my brother) would daydream about being married to him or going out with him, but nothing more. I was eight or nine, after all.
My love of Michael Jackson’s music continued throughout my teenage years, but the crush disappeared. I never believed he bleached his skin or any of the other rumours, but his public appearances lost the fun and cheekiness they once had. The more guarded and secretive he became, the less I felt I knew him.
[Image description: a youthful Michael Jackson in his Jackson Five era]
I only had one crush during my teenage years and it was the actor from Terminator 2, Edward Furlong. It was years before I saw the film, but I had a massive poster of him up in my room and devoured every magazine interview I could find. And I was secretly convinced we’d meet, and that my crush would turn into real love.
Even if he was in Hollywood, I figured a private jet would bring him into Luton Airport and somehow he’d end up in my hometown and have a meet-cute worthy of any rom-com. I remember being DEVASTATED when his teen relationship with actress Soleil Moon-Frye was announced. “She isn’t even Black,” I thought despairingly. And yes, he was white, with a brooding energy rather than the cheeky, clean-cut vibe of my earlier crushes, but that suited my teenage moody attitude.
[Image description: Actor Edward Furlong looks brooding in the film ‘Terminator 2’]
It’s been decades since I had a crush on anyone, simply because a crush is just that, an idea. And I’ve long realised that one of my personal values is rooted in mutual exchange of energy and respect. Crushes don’t really allow for that. So even if I find someone physically attractive, I don’t develop crushes. I just notice their good looks, the same way I’d notice anything attractive, and then my mind moves on.
It’s uncomfortable to look back and realise how much of my history of crushes is driven by white supremacy, even unknowingly. So many of my early crushes were based on a completely false sense of knowing people, usually people who were worlds away from my identity and culture. I only “knew” the versions of them that a very white, very curated media wanted me to see. And that created an inequitable criteria for who could even be crushworthy.
A white man only had to be charming on screen for me to feel I knew him. A Black man had to be a global superstar for me to have enough visibility, enough access, enough information to even imagine having a crush. Of course my crushes followed the script. They weren’t just about who I liked, but about who I was told was likeable, safe, admirable or wholesome.
So are crushes ‘harmless’? Maybe not. A crush can feel innocent, but so many of our crushes aren’t instinctive at all. They reflect who the world tells us is worth admiring, which often means that whiteness, power, ease and visibility get framed as desirable by default.
A crush can blur the line between genuine attraction and internalised bias, making privilege look like charm and celebrity look like integrity. It can mask power imbalances, excuse behaviour and reinforce the idea that some people get to take up space effortlessly while others are expected to shrink and remain unseen. And if this is the case, even our longing has been politicised.
But I also know this might be me overthinking it. I’ve loved reading the reflections in this series because they hold crushes with so much humour, honesty and nostalgia. No shade, no judgement here. A crush is just a crush, and there’s joy in naming who lights you up.
I’m not here to analyse anyone else’s concept of desire. But in writing this, I’m noting how my understanding has shifted as I’ve learned more about myself, my work and the world I move through.
Thanks for having me.
About the Author
Collette Philip is founder of multi-award-winning anti-racist brand consultancy, Brand by Me as well as being a writer, coach and facilitator. Her Substack, “Doing the Work” is a space for learning, accountability, and honest and open reflections on anti-racism, anti-oppression and what it means for brands and communications.
Doing the Work is a weekly-ish newsletter for anyone who is passionate about doing THE work of anti-racism and anti-oppression. A space for accountability, community and learning on how to make the world better and drive change (starting with brands).
Website and Socials
brandbyme.co.uk | @brandbymehq | collettephilip.com | @brandbycollette
Previous posts in the ‘Considering My Crushes’ series:
Podcaster and journalist Bethany Burgoyne writes about her early 00s crushes on cute actor Jeremy Sumpter in his role as Peter Pan and a whole host of fine young women from TV and film.
Writer and civil liberties expert Gracie Mae Bradley described her late nineties and early noughties rock star crushes Tom DeLonge from rock band Blink-182 and Less Than Jake band member Chris DeMakes.
Sex Educator Ruth Ramsay wrote about her 80s and 90s crushes that were sparked by seeing leather and bondage in pop and rock music video for bands like Duran Duran, Mötley Crüe and Eurythmics.
Sensuality Educator Oli Lipski (AKA ‘The Queer Sensualist’) wrote about her crushes, which included Anthony Kiedis, Hayley Williams, Sienna Miller, Blake Lively and Ed Westwick.
I remember my adolescence and young womanhood where I crushed on anything and everything that had a pulse. During this era, I kept journals and scrapbooks where I’d write lengthy lists of crushes and also cut out pics and make poster collages. Partially paywalled. To read in full, upgrade to paid.
Author Justin Myers (AKA ‘The Guyliner’) wrote about his crushes, Harry from school, Jake Gyllenhaal, Maxwell Caulfield, Jordan Knight, Will Smith and Jamie Dornan.
Author Peter Apps wrote a piece about his early crushes, Princess Jasmine, Blue Peter presenter Katy Hill, J-Lo and the character Cassie from the Animorph’s book series.
Author and multi-hyphenate and Karla Marie Sweet wrote an essay on her crushes on Aladdin, footballer Paul Ince, Spice Girl Mel C and lots of sexy actresses from film and TV.
I described my early 00s crushes on Sirius Black and Kingsley Shacklebolt from Harry Potter; Harvey, Romeo and Asher D from So Solid Crew. Partially paywalled. To read in full, upgrade to paid.
I went back to the mid/late 90s, to my first crushes who were Peter Pan, Damon Albarn, Billy Kennedy, Ernst Robinson and US President Bill Clinton.
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Please do ‘like’ this post via the heart icon (❤️) that appears at the very top and bottom of this post, as it’s the best way to help others find my work.
If this project is something that you value, and want it to continue, readers are encouraged to upgrade to paid. With a paid subscription you’ll gain access to the content beyond the paywall and unrestricted access to the full archive of this newsletter.
Paid subscriptions are either billed monthly at £3.79 (less than a coffee ☕️) or annually at £34.99.
If you would prefer to make a one-off donation, feel free to send a contribution via PayPal.
You can also show your enjoyment without spending £££, by liking, commenting, restacking via Notes, or by just generally sharing 😃
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Thanks so much for having me! Loved writing this post 😊