Article: Sarah Hepola from Men's Health

Back when my mother came of age, big-screen sex symbols were of a certain solitary, brooding variety. James Garner, Steve McQueen, Paul Newman. They were bruisers – mystery men who slung their virility around like a pistol. I never went for the type. Too hairy.

My movie ideal is of another genre entirely, an Eighties romantic comedy to their Sixties Western. Like millions of women my age (let's say 29), I find that no movie hero sends my heart thumping like John Cusack's character, Lloyd Dobler, in the movie Say Anything.

I know what you're thinking: what a loser. And granted, should a guy show up outside my window at 1am blaring Peter Gabriel, I'm calling the cops. But I love a man who knows what he wants, especially if it happens to be me. Call me selfish, but I want to be assured of my importance, my irreplaceability in someone's heart.

As a student, I fell head over platform shoes for a chef who devoted an entire weekend to wooing me by cooking elaborate meals in a flat we never left. I was impressed by his pesto, but knocked out by his gusto – he wanted me and he was determined. It was intoxicating. I've heard from guys who swear that such behaviour often backfires – women think it's too much, too creepy. I suppose that's true in some cases. All I know is that the chef went after what he wanted – and he got it.

Back to Lloyd. He's not so handsome, really, and this is the point I'm trying to make: charisma counts. His attractiveness comes from his quick wit and his generous smile. I can't tell you how often a girlfriend has described the object of her affection as follows: "He's not that good-looking, but there's just something about him." A swagger, an aura.

My first boyfriend was the colour of wood pulp and could practically fit in my pocket, but he had charisma to burn. He was hilarious and kind. When he spoke, people turned to hear what he was saying. Because he wasn't conventionally handsome, I had always figured I was alone in my attraction. This alternately frustrated and delighted me, like an amazing indie band only I knew about. When we broke up, though, women stampeded for his number.

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