I Went To The Timothée Chalamet Look-Alike Contest To Find A Boyfriend

Oct. 1 marked my second anniversary of living and dating in New York City, and it’s only appropriate that on this same day, my love life reached rock bottom. I had an unfounded pregnancy scare, got rejected by a Republican, and subsequently ran into my ex, who had a new girlfriend and a killer haircut. (The haircut aspect was more upsetting, honestly.) As I paused at a street corner debating moving to Nebraska to try my hand at a small-town romance, I was greeted with what could only be considered a sign from above: a flier taped to the lamppost beside me that read “Timotheé Chalamet Look-Alike Competition. Oct. 27. 1 p.m. Washington Square Park arch. $50 cash prize.”

I knew in that instant that I had found my golden ticket. No, I wasn’t about to win $50 for my resemblance to dear ol’ Timmy. I was going to find a scrawny rodent man to be my one and only.

When I went home to research the competition and nail down its legitimacy, it quickly became clear that I wasn’t the only horndog with this ulterior motive. A Reddit thread was filled with folks lusting after the contest, with comments like “Someone smart found a way to meet their future husband” and “There is someone deeply thirsty out there with a dream and 50 bucks.” In other words, me and my thirsty girls would ride at dawn.

Waking up on Oct. 27 felt like Christmas morning — but instead of Sephora gift cards, I was unwrapping a litter of artsy, brunette boys. And let me tell you, I did deep preparations for this event: My self-tan was freshly applied, my hair was Dysoned to bouncy perfection, and hell, my pubic area was groomed just in case. After much debate, I decided my best plan of attack would be to rock a Brooklyn-chic outfit, serve clean girl makeup a lá 2024 Kylie Jenner, and arrive at least 30 minutes early to ensure I would get face time with the contestants.

Unfortunately, it turns out all the fangirls of New York City had the exact same idea. As I rolled up to Washington Square Park at 12:30 p.m. sharp, I was greeted by oodles of women who had already filed under the arch, reserving their spots and marking their territory. Some came with friends, and many arrived in their Sunday best, but 24-year-old Sommer outdid us all: She arrived with a flirty poster, business cards, and a bespoke email address for potential suitors to get in touch.

“The skinny men of New York have been gathered in one place for me,” she told me as I gushed over her genius strategy and Sabrina Carpenter curtain bangs. Now, these skinny men know exactly how to reach her (timotheespleaseemailme@gmail.com).

There was no denying it: Out of the 10,000 (!) attendees, a huge chunk were on the hunt for a Timothée dupe for themselves. Some were pining for the Wonka look-alike, others were more interested in a hipster-scarf-wearing Timmy, but they all were looking for love.

But were the Timmys also searching for romance? The answer wasn’t as clear. Eighteen-year-old Vincent turned heads at the competition, dressed as Timothée as Bob Dylan (with both the sideburns and harmonica, of course). But unfortunately for his admirers, Vincent’s mind was on one thing: Five Guys. “I love women, but I’m not here for women. I’m here for money,” he told me. “If I won, I’d probably go to Five Guys. Get a burger, probably a small fry, and if I have enough money leftover, a shake.”

The competition commenced with contestants making their way inside the mob to be judged and cheered for by onlookers, and it quickly became clear that there were a few hurdles I may have overlooked before setting out on this mission.

Firstly, I did not anticipate the number of people who would show up. The Timothée look-alikes could be found at the center of a crazed mosh pit, which I was not emotionally ready to push my way through. Instead, I climbed a fence, trying to see over the mob and simultaneously avoid the cops who were herding people out of the park — and ushering one Timothée into their squad car.

At one point, the mosh pit seemed to work in my favor. Luck shoved me next to a cute boy, and as we both bonded over our struggle to see over the crowd, I asked if he would be down to put me on his shoulders (“It’s for the both of us”, I insisted, “so I can report back on what’s happening in the center”).

He agreed, and I relished in the physical touch of climbing on top of him. Unfortunately, that lead went south when I learned that he was on a date with the man next to him. Which leads me to my next discovery.

As I bonded with more audience members after bidding my Shoulder Savoir adieu, I realized most of the attendees were girls, gays, and theys — which, typically, I would love and prefer, except when I’m on the hunt for a hubby. Not only were the spectators not of the hetero male variety, but the majority of Timmys themselves were either born after 2005 or gay — and the crop that wasn’t was in extremely high demand. A few dared to compete while in a committed relationship, and I swore I heard the crowd sigh when one announced that he would use the money to “take his girlfriend on a date.” Screw him, I thought to myself.

But it wasn’t the huge crowd or the abundance of queerness that truly put the nail in the coffin in my search for lust at the Timothée Chalamet Look-Alike Contest. No, it was the moment that Timothée Chalamet himself made a surprise appearance. At exactly 1:28 p.m. (I know this because I have a video in my camera roll that’s just me screaming, “IS THAT HIM?”), The Real Timmy™ weaved through the crowd to take a picture with his look-alikes — only to disappear seconds later with security as iPhones and screeches surrounded him.

But this brief appearance, with his cheeky mustache and backward baseball cap, was enough to convince me to call off my search. All these boys can try, but no one can truly outdo the doer. As I walked home feeling defeated, I vowed that from now on, I would put my physical type to the wayside in my quest for love. If this competition taught me anything, it’s that New York City has no shortage of shaggy, rodent-esque men — but there’s nothing quite like an original to get your heart racing.