Bash Compactor: On a Ramp-age

Ever fall madly in love with someone, think about him day and night, but never even kiss him? That’s not love, it’s a crush— and it’s always more fun than so-called true love, inevitably attached to boring real-life issues like laundry, bills and monogamy.

“Where the hell is Charlotte Rampling?” I asked Khary Simon, one of the editors of [CRUSHfanzine], a quarterly magazine devoted to exploring the exquisite details of infatuation. Every issue is devoted to one theme or person and the latest is devoted to the sexy British actress herself. Simon seemed normal enough, not obsessive. He’s a friendly guy with a warm handshake. “Oh, she’s in Australia on a shoot,” he told me. What a cooze! I trekked Downtown to Envoy Enterprises Gallery for Rampling just to hang out with a bunch of good-looking men? Admittedly, that’s the whole point of obsession—unrequited desire—but it would have been lovely to meet up with the 64-year-old beauty in the flesh.

Rampling’s a worthy object for crushdom and cultdom. Unlike most actors, she only appears in interesting films playing bold and memorable characters. I myself worked with her on the set of Woody Allen’s Stardust Memories. Rampling was quiet but alluring on the outdoor set, the Planting Fields Arboretum in Oyster Bay.

After hearing my object of desire was absent, I went to the back room where projected images were flashing on the wall and photographer Nicolas Wagner was tidying up. Bottles of beer lined the room. “You can see Charlotte on Fixx Invictus’s arm,” he said. Huh? Invictus, described as “a real hottie” by one of the boys, had a huge tattoo of Rampling in The Night Porter inscribed on his bicep. Wow! My night was complete. Who needs the real Rampling, anyway? As CRUSHfanzine guest editor Alex Gartenfield said, “A crush can only persist so long as it is not returned.”