The fuckboy index: Documenting the six types of fuckboy you’ll meet in 2017

William Shakespeare once said: “I will find you twenty lascivious turtles ere one chaste man.” 415 years later and not much has changed; for every decent guy, you’ll end up dating 20 other dickbags.

What has changed, though, are the types of guy you’ll regret hooking up with. Don’t worry, though. It’s never been easier to navigate the man-dating minefield than it is in 2017.

Fact is, there are only really six of them – and they’re all as reprehensible as each other. Avoid these men at all costs.

The Cuckboy, also known as the faux-feminist fuckboy, has been woke longer than you. He’s read the SCUM Manifesto and The Feminine Mystique and every Riot Grrrl zine on the internet. He has a tumblr and uses it to get into fights with you when you don’t understand the complexities of the patriarchal structure as well as he does.

Yes, there are guys who are actual feminists – but this one is just using a rudimentary knowledge of who Germaine Greer is to get you to sleep with him.

What he texts you: “Can u believe this??? Asshole! [Link to an article about Donald Trump and reproductive rights from three weeks ago]. “

What he listens to: Bikini Kill, Le Tigre, Hole, Bratmobile, woke podcasts and anything he can find by googling “riot grrrl.”

Famous examples: Matt McGorry, every guy in this SNL sketch.

Natural habitat: Taking a Boomerang video with you and your gal friends at the Women’s March on Washington. 

Remember how annoying and condescending and brooding Justin Bobby was in The Hills back in the day? Yeah, that’s basically the modern Litboy (but with more cultural references). He dresses in all black constantly, thinks he’s the next Ginsberg and carries a moleskine journal and fancy pen (who still carries pens?!) inside the pocket of his painstakingly dyed black denim jacket at all times.

The Litboy revels in being more intellectually superior to you – even if that misplaced intellectual superiority is based on quotes he’s taken out of context from novels he never finished. Get ready to have a lot of conversations about the subtext in Nabokov’s work and how he’s just “really fucked up right now.”

What he texts you: Him: [famous quote] You: “That’s so nice did you write it?” Him: “….Lol um no babe, it’s Salinger.”

What he listens to: Ludovico Einaudi while staring out the window like he’s in a music video/biography. Alternatively, Bob Dylan and obscure sixties folk you definitely won’t have heard of.

Famous examples: Ernest Hemingway, or that one guy in your American lit seminar who wears horn rimmed round glasses and never speaks. 

Natural habitat: Coffee shops, used bookstores, galleries, any bar where it’s been made to look like a 1920s speakeasy.

The most historically accurate example, the Out & Out Fuckboy hasn’t evolved like his peers. He’s still the guy in your DMs (never before 11) asking “what would u do if I was there lol”. You know when you see those low rise ripped knee acid wash jeans in the men’s section of River Island and you’re like “who would wear these”? I’ll tell you, my friend: the Out & Out Fuckboy.

Constantly on his phone and constantly tanned, he sends you gym selfies and screenshots all your Snapchats hours after getting them because he “just saw this.” Sure. 

What he texts you: “What trouble u getting into tonight? ;)”

What he listens to: Literally just EDM. He might be one of the guys in Chainsmokers for all you know.

Famous examples: The guys in The Chainsmokers.

Natural habitat: The gym, the club, your inbox at 3am

 

The Softboy (sometimes known as the Sadboy) is quintessentially “a nice guy”. Or at least that’s what he tells you. A lot.

He owns a lot of cardigans, wears obnoxious headphones playing acoustic indie really loudly on the subway, calls sex “making love” and texts you good morning and goodnight religiously until you finally show some actual interest in commitment, at which point he ditches you quicker than you can say “most people really misinterpret the true meaning of 500 Days of Summer you know.” He’ll still spin it that you’re just like all the rest, hurting him. You bitch. 

What he texts you: “That guy sounds like a dick, I’d never hurt you like that.” He will.

What he listens to: The Smiths, Death Cab, Modest Mouse, Keaton Henson.

Famous examples: Joseph Gordon Levitt in 500 Days of Summer, Seth from the OC, Dan Fucking Humphrey.

Natural habitat: The dog park, the desk across from you, Tumblr, his favourite bench to view the entire city from (he’ll take you there to watch the sunrise before ghosting you).

This guy is either a musician, a low-level drug dealer or he’s definitely starting an app (it’s like a streetwear pop-up but like, on your phone, man). He doesn’t have his life together – which is fine, nobody does, but he embraces it as a lifestyle choice in an aggressively pretentious way. Fool that you are, you think this is endearing and that you can fix him.

He channels seriously curated early Pete Doherty-cum-Jagger vibes and always wears the same uniform of combat boots, leather jacket and ripped t shirts. He smokes without inhaling. Eventually you walk in on him getting with your friend at one of his “gigs” and you’re like why am I even surprised.

What he texts you: He doesn’t have a phone.

What he listens to: Babyshambles, The Libertines, The Stones, The Strokes. He once Shazammed a OneRepublic song he really liked and hated himself for weeks afterwards.

Famous examples: Harry Styles, Heath Ledger in 10 Things I Hate About You (you like to think).

Natural habitat: Dive bars, gigs, after-after-parties, police holding cells.

There’s a proverb which goes: “One to rule them all, one to find them, one to bring them all, and in the darkness bind them”. This saying applies both to mythical rings and to fuckboys; for here we have the Life Ruiner, the one who leaves all other proto-fuckboys in his dust.

He’s dated a lot and he says all his exes are crazy, so obviously you think you’re gonna be the one who’s different. He’s impeccably well dressed, has a great job, and bafflingly just has his shit together. You go to dinner parties in his very well-decorated apartment and feel desperately uncool around his friends but still try really hard. You would let this man run you over in his car.

To be fair, it’s a very nice car.

What he texts you: “I just don’t think this is gonna work out.”

What he listens to: The smoothest of jazz.

Famous examples: Spencer Matthews, Chuck Bass, Jon Hamm in anything.

Natural habitat: Bars you can’t afford to buy a drink in, restaurants you can’t get a reservation at, parties you wouldn’t get an invite to.

Illustrations by Bobby Palmer

@rosielanners