While political pundits continue to debate Gregor Robertson’s legacy after Vancouver’s longest serving mayor announced this week he would not be seeking re-election in October, there is one, albeit superficial, fact few will disagree on. Robertson is and likely will be the most attractive mayor this city has ever seen. Sure, some may point to Sam Sullivan’s boyish charm, or Malcolm Maclean’s Victorian-era ruggedness, but Robertson’s granite-hewn cheekbones alone land him atop the mayor meat pile. He’s probably also the fittest dude to sweatlessly climb the staircases at 12th & Cambie, since the Courier’s kale-friendly civic affairs truth warrior Mike Howell took up the city hall beat.
Most importantly, Robertson is dynamically attractive, with different versions of attractiveness during his hunky reign. Here’s a brief rundown of the many looks Robertson sported throughout the years.
Blue windbreaker, sensible helmet and dress slacks create a trifecta of gentle confidence. Come ride with me, it says, I’ll go at a slow, even pace. Let’s get our heart rate up to a safe level of excitement then enjoy a goji-berry smoothie in the cruel moonlight.
The New Age Victor
Self-satisfied, but not gloating, with an “I could be vacationing in Nantucket with the Kennedys but choose not to” vibe. Chakras are fully aligned and the chi is off the mother effin’ hook. The din of angry Marpole residents (is there any other kind?) may be around the corner, but for now, bliss. Namaste.
Just got out of bed and threw this old thing on to be with you here today
A dishevelled, salt and pepper Gregor invites many questions. Did he just get out of bed? And if so, where? How many downtown lofts, office closets and gulf island yurts does he hang his suits in? So many questions, so little time. Yes, let’s grab a chianti and talk about it over some smooth jazz and recycling policy.
It’s business time
Damn. G-man means business. Pinstripes? You’re goddam right. Newscaster hair that would make Tony Parsons weep with envy? Boom. The ironic thing is during this speech Robertson probably uttered the phrases “design jam,” “public space intervention” and “visioning phase of engagement.”
I’m a free man
Robertson’s last public appearance was probably his best look. At the press conference Wednesday where he announced his decision not to run next election, he sported a sleek new hairdo that took years off his 53-year-old kisser and made him look like a sommelier with a thorough knowledge of Spanish tempranillos with earthy tannins. The lack of a tie also says “I’m approachable,” and in a certain light, perhaps while a Leonard Cohen remix pulsates in the background, “Daddy’s single.”