Let's face it — it ain't easy being famous. But what's worse? Looking like you're famous.
I've experienced the difficulties secondhand, as my good friend Alec Ernest has gone through the anguish, the utter affliction, of resembling Vince (Adrian Grenier) of "Entourage" — not only a celebrity, but a celebrity who plays a celebrity. Youch.
Unsurprisingly, Alec, tired of passively enduring his likeness to Vince, shaved his lustrous dark hair in a bold attempt to sever any association between him and his more glamorous lookalike. On the bright side, it's now easier for him to mask the fact that he only showers once a semester. But Alec isn't the only one who has had to grapple with the adversity that is looking like the bold and beautiful.
There is a man among us who you may have, once or twice, mistaken for the Louis Vuitton don himself, Kanye West. Known as, "the guy who looks like Kanye" or "Clone-ye West," he cruises the quad in his mayonnaise jaguar, bringing music to the lay people: "I gotta testify, come up in the spot looking extra fly / For the day I die, I'mma touch the sky."
Not only do he and Kanye share a peculiar likeness, but they also seem to share a number of character traits: the laid-back yet socially vigilant disposition, the ample amount of confidence and yes, that kinetic aura — the swagger that demands your attention, makes you nod your head and say "Aww, yeaah ... That guy — he's got it." Often watching him sport a smart suit and his bluetooth headset, I've wondered whether or not he knows he's not Kanye. That is, until I met him.
A few days back, I summoned the strength to approach Clone-ye in Carmichael, inquiring about his feelings concerning his resemblance to the prophet Mr. West. Perchance I was lacking in tact, because, while good humored, he seemed a tad bit peeved by the question. Registering his reaction, I ensured him the article would be an attempt to get at the true "guy who looks like Kanye," so that those who don't know him personally could begin to recognize him for all that he does around campus. If successful, this column could be a means to divest him both of the stigma of being a celebrity lookalike and the titles that have come to shadow his true name.
Still, he would have none of it. Ironically, his decision will only serve to perpetuate the mythology surrounding "the guy who looks like Kanye" and ensure that such a title remains.
It is at this juncture that we may turn to the wise words of Kanye West himself, who, in his hit song "All Falls Down" proclaims, "We all self-conscious / I'm just the first to admit it." After taking a moment to filter through the faux-modesty and egregious self-importance of the statement, we see that Kanye has brought up a relevant point: We are all self-conscious in varying degrees, and instead of being ashamed, we should embrace our self-consciousness as a necessary part of being human and move on. With that said, I beseech you who've been dealt the unfair plight of sharing a celebrity's countenance to follow Mr. Ernest's lead and declare yourself separate and all together unassociated with the celebrity you resemble.
"Guy who looks like Kanye," I am ready and willing to give this another try. I'd like to let Tufts in on all those things that you don't have in common with Sir Kanye West — all the things you do better, like not wearing those stupid shuttered glasses and using restraint when considering beating up members of the media (wink, wink). Until then, I hope you find peace.
Michael Goetzman is a sophomore who has not yet declared a major. He can be reached at Michael.Goetzman@tufts.edu.
