Esquire's Tom Chiarella reveals the details of his date with Kate Beckinsale, the Sexiest Woman Alive. The actress follows in the footsteps of Esquire beauties Scarlett Johansson, Charlize Theron, Jessica Biel, and Halle Berry .
Date With: Kate Beckinsale, the 2009 Sexiest Woman Alive. "This whole notion of being named Sexiest Woman Alive is going to earn me quite a beating," she says. "You can't have that title with four brothers. I'll get wedgies. Headlocks. Noogies."
Location: One of those places where women meet other women for lunch, to talk forever, to eat salads and split entrées, where the sweaters are stretchy, the jewelry outsized, the purses massive and sexless, where fruity tea is served in ceramic pots.
What She Wore: Hot pants, a trim white blouse over a tank top, black boots with heels. If there is a difference between femininity and sexiness, this may be it. She is sexy, boot to temple. The wrought-iron furniture? Feminine in every curlicue.
On her finger: skull ring. Huge. This rose-gold skull staring from the crook of her knuckle. Biggest ring I'd ever seen. Pearls in the eyeholes and everything. Cool. And definitely not sexless.
Memorable Moment: In a notepad on the table, I had a question about all the fighting she does in movies - does it feel good to punch a man? - followed by a list of the things that make a woman sexy.
I read to her a bit of my list, and she checked herself off with a laugh. "I do eat meat, I don't smoke, I don't really drink, I do sing," she said. "I don't sing well, however." She seemed to think this disqualifies her. She went on: "Given that I can't sing like Freddie Mercury, obviously I'm not going to pursue it as a career. What would be the point?" Freddie Mercury? I admit to holding a fairly unadulterated, semi-sexual affection for the seventies icon, the mystic Indian rock-balladeer, lead singer of Queen.
Kate is the first person I've known since Andi Koller, my girlfriend the summer after senior year at good old McQuaid Jesuit High School, to share with me the opinion that Freddie Mercury may be the gold-standard pop-singing voice. F--- Michael Jackson, we had said back then. But this was the effect of that restaurant - the twist of wicker, the paroxysm of houseplants - mading me act strangely like a girl, while Kate Beckinsale acted like she's got a set.
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