God, wasn’t Dawson’s Creek awful? Don’t dispute me, it was. Dawson’s Creek fucking owed society a big one for forcing upon us every week the closest living human relative to Sesame Street’s Beaker. But I have to say, it paid up big time with Josh Jackson. He was the redemptive feature of the show, starring as The Person with an Actual Sense of Humor. And look at him now—gorgeous. Heir to the Clooney style throne, but without those pesky sexuality rumors. Looking for photos of him shows how he somehow manages to combine cuddliness and cool, moneyed sexiness and, simultaneously, how under-appreciated he generally is. Well, not here. Here we will concoct elaborte daydreams about going shopping for bespoke clothes in Milan and Paris, then going back to our parquet-floored apartment with soaring ceilings, elaborate plasterwork and French doors that go out to an east-facing balcony, in which we’ll model our new dresses for him as he makes progressively dirtier comments … until there are no dresses at all.