Matthew presents his frst is­sue.

GQ (Australia) - - INSIDE - Matthew Drum­mond EDITOR

The stage of Amer­ica’s an­nual ‘Teen Choice Awards’ is an un­likely pul­pit from which to mount a de­mo­li­tion job on pop­u­lar ideas of what it takes to be a celebrity. But that’s ex­actly what Ash­ton Kutcher did, in his suc­cinct, cere­bral style, when three years ago he was an­nointed as the ‘Ul­ti­mate Teen Choice’ – pre­sented by way of a com­mem­o­ra­tive surf­board. “I feel like a fraud,” said Kutcher, caus­ing the hys­ter­i­cal scream­ing from the au­di­ence to abruptly stop. “My name is not even Ash­ton. Ash­ton’s my middle name. My first name’s Chris: it got changed when I was 19 and I be­came an ac­tor. But there were some re­ally amaz­ing things that I learned when I was Chris, and I wanted to share those things with you guys.” Kutcher then de­liv­ered his three-step guide to achiev­ing suc­cess. What peo­ple think of as op­por­tu­nity, is ac­tu­ally a lot of hard work. For him that meant wash­ing dishes, work­ing on a deli counter and sweep­ing Chee­rio dust off the floor of a fac­tory that made break­fast ce­real. (He cut it there, leav­ing out the story that we all more or less know: at a bar he gets no­ticed by a model scout, he walks run­ways, be­comes an ac­tor, achieves fame in cult com­edy Dude, Where’s my Car?, mar­ries cougar Demi Moore...). Through­out the in­glo­ri­ous start to his ca­reer no job ever felt be­neath him, he said. He just felt lucky to have one. On the mat­ter of what makes some­one at­trac­tive, he took aim right at the heart of the Hol­ly­wood ma­chine. “The sex­ist thing in the en­tire world is be­ing re­ally smart. And be­ing thought­ful. And be­ing gen­er­ous. Ev­ery­thing else is crap.” And fi­nally, a mes­sage about find­ing hap­pi­ness in a world that some­times pushes you in the op­po­site di­rec­tion. The world is the way it is be­cause other peo­ple built it that way, Kutcher said. You can live your life in­side a world that was built by oth­ers, or you can build your own life and al­low other peo­ple to move in. “So don’t live a life,” he said. “Build one.” Kutcher is a con­stant fea­ture on lists rou­tinely drawn up of the smartest celebri­ties in Hol­ly­wood. When he’s not de­ploy­ing his in­tel­li­gence to in­spire his fans, he’s us­ing it to build a kick-arse in­vest­ment port­fo­lio. The baby-faced sit­com star has man­aged to buy stakes in the world’s most cov­eted tech firms in­clud­ing Uber, Spo­tify and Airbnb. Asked by GQ’S Mike Chris­tensen why there’s so much more to him than act­ing, he replies with a mod­esty that both charms and dis­arms: “Maybe I’ve al­ways been afraid I’m not that good as an ac­tor.” Clever and hum­ble, 38-year-old Kutcher is ex­em­plary of ev­ery­thing GQ stands for, and is hence a per­fect cover for this, my first edi­tion as the new editor of GQ Aus­tralia. When you land a gig like this one, you get used to a cer­tain re­ac­tion from peo­ple, a kind of taken-aback, “Cool! How’d you get THAT job?” When­ever I get that ques­tion, it trig­gers flash­backs of read­ing GQ as a young man (and as a not so young man), and of mak­ing the re­al­i­sa­tion at some point in my for­ma­tive years, that this was my mag­a­zine. And then I think of spend­ing the rest of my ca­reer fig­ur­ing out how to get a job here (or, as Kutcher would put it, build­ing a life, not just liv­ing one). As editor of GQ, you also get fre­quently asked who’s the GQ reader. Is it guys into fash­ion? How many of them are gay? (And the point of that ques­tion is…?) So I’ll tell you, dear reader, what I say when peo­ple ask who you are. You’re a guy who cares about how you ap­pear to oth­ers – it’s as sim­ple as that. You know that first im­pres­sions count; you want to look the part (and by ‘the part’ that means the role you want to play in life). And you also know that if what you’re wear­ing creates that al­limpor­tant first im­pres­sion, the im­pres­sion that lingers comes from what you’ve said. So you keep in the loop and when you talk to some­one you’re both in­ter­est­ing and in­ter­ested in what they have to say. You’re cool, and you’re cool about that as well. Which is what makes you a gen­tle­man – a word that’s a lit­tle old-fash­ioned yet can be flexed into a myr­iad of mod­ern mo­ments. To­day’s gen­tle­man doesn’t im­me­di­ately for­get some­one’s name think­ing he can just look them up on FB later. He re­mem­bers that Uber driv­ers also get to rate their cus­tomers. He al­ways ar­rives on time, un­less it’s for a din­ner party, when he’s ex­actly 15 min­utes late. He knows the cor­rect way to open a cham­pagne bot­tle, and he never leaves his chop­sticks stick­ing into rice. The mod­ern gen­tle­man knows that if he open doors for oth­ers, big­ger doors will open for him. That’s the GQ reader. And this is his mag­a­zine. En­joy the is­sue.

Newspapers in English

Newspapers from Australia

© PressReader. All rights reserved.