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Earlier this month, multiple news outlets reported that model/author/perennial weird-baby-holder Emily Ratajkowskiwas out on the town sans wedding ring. EmRata had been off the market since 2018, when she married Sebastian Bear McClard, an NYC scene kid/producer perhaps best known for having gotten in a very public fight with his landlord and looking like if Dennis the Menace got lip fillers. But when gossip accounts like DeuxMoi started publishing whispers that McClard had cheated on Ratajkowski (which were subsequently confirmed by an anonymous source who spoke to Page Six), the heterosexual male community became nothing short of invigorated, apparently counting down the days until she would become available like a child before Christmas Day waiting to get a unicorn toy that shits Nerds.
This is, at least, the impression that one gets when surveying the gossip world. Everyone from Drake to John Mayer (identified in one blind item as an “A list musician who has a divorcee kink”) to Trevor Noah (with whom she had been spotted allegedly “canoodling” at Mike Rubin’s 4th of July White Party) has been said to be keeping their eye on Ratajkowski, according to various completely unverifiable reader-submitted tips to accounts like DeuxMoi.
Does the My Body author seem remotely interested in rebounding with any of these men? Not really. In fact, she seems wildly unbothered by any speculation into her private life, as evidenced by the baseball cap she recently wore with the subtle message “Ce n’est importe quoi” (translated into “it doesn’t matter”/”it doesn’t bother me”) during a casual stroll in front of the paparazzi recently. As is their wont after any prominent attractive woman experiences any major life change, the press has largely focused its attention on her wardrobe choices, such as a “racy bra” she wore on a “girls night in NYC” or an orange bikini top she recently donned that “oozes sex a-peel.” It’s our hope, however, that she take all the time she needs to recover from her breakup the way any of us would: periodically going on crying jags, spending way too much time with her Womanizer, and taking molly at a dive bar and going home with a graphic designer/Flat Earther.
Earlier this month, multiple news outlets reported that model/author/perennial weird-baby-holder Emily Ratajkowskiwas out on the town sans wedding ring. EmRata had been off the market since 2018, when she married Sebastian Bear McClard, an NYC scene kid/producer perhaps best known for having gotten in a very public fight with his landlord and looking like if Dennis the Menace got lip fillers. But when gossip accounts like DeuxMoi started publishing whispers that McClard had cheated on Ratajkowski (which were subsequently confirmed by an anonymous source who spoke to Page Six), the heterosexual male community became nothing short of invigorated, apparently counting down the days until she would become available like a child before Christmas Day waiting to get a unicorn toy that shits Nerds.
This is, at least, the impression that one gets when surveying the gossip world. Everyone from Drake to John Mayer (identified in one blind item as an “A list musician who has a divorcee kink”) to Trevor Noah (with whom she had been spotted allegedly “canoodling” at Mike Rubin’s 4th of July White Party) has been said to be keeping their eye on Ratajkowski, according to various completely unverifiable reader-submitted tips to accounts like DeuxMoi.
Does the My Body author seem remotely interested in rebounding with any of these men? Not really. In fact, she seems wildly unbothered by any speculation into her private life, as evidenced by the baseball cap she recently wore with the subtle message “Ce n’est importe quoi” (translated into “it doesn’t matter”/”it doesn’t bother me”) during a casual stroll in front of the paparazzi recently. As is their wont after any prominent attractive woman experiences any major life change, the press has largely focused its attention on her wardrobe choices, such as a “racy bra” she wore on a “girls night in NYC” or an orange bikini top she recently donned that “oozes sex a-peel.” It’s our hope, however, that she take all the time she needs to recover from her breakup the way any of us would: periodically going on crying jags, spending way too much time with her Womanizer, and taking molly at a dive bar and going home with a graphic designer/Flat Earther.
