Pretty, Handsome, Hot

An exploration in the value of pedantry

Close-up photograph of antique metal movable type blocks arranged in rows, emphasizing language, typography, and the printed word.
Pretty, Handsome, Hot
William T. Torgerson

I’ve always enjoyed words. Now that I think about it, maybe the relationship is more fraught than I’d considered. Maybe we’re frienemies. You see, words enjoy the odd characteristic of having both a hard-and-fast definition (or multiple) as well as a cultural connotation. Neither form particularly solid ground. Maybe frenemies isn’t right either. I’ve never fought with words only with humans over words.

Strange how we can speak the same language and yet not. How often does a tool change on you?

Since I’m the weirdo that gets down a resharpens the saw teeth, let’s just say that I’m pedantic.

I can’t help myself. Well, I can sometimes, but it takes great effort. It just seems that humanity put all this work into inventing and developing language and culture that we should pay particular and specific care to the words we use.

For example, the earliest taxinomical classification I recall instituting was around the words describing physical aesthetics of the opposite sex (whichever of them you may be attracted to). Specifically the words beautiful, pretty, handsome, sexy, and hot. For the first time, I’m going to spell out what these words actually mean.

I know, exciting huh?


“Words don’t just describe the world, the prescribe.”


Beauty isn’t just “aesthetically pleasing,” it implied an emotional quality to the appreciation. I often picture someone with tears glazing their eyes as they take in something awful (“full of awe,” not “terrible” – I’m bringing it back). When you find something beautiful, sometimes you can’t comprehend the whole. I’d stack “beautiful” beside “breathtaking” and “inspiring.” When I spy a beautiful woman from across the room, I’m nearer intimidated than aroused.

Pretty is a fantastic word. There’s a lightness to it, a daintiness. That’s part of the reason men don’t care to be called pretty (you can call me pretty as much as you like). Something pretty is aesthetically pleasing in a smaller and safer way that something that’s beautiful. A mountain can be beautiful while a smooth, colorful river stone can be pretty. I’ve never been intimidated by a pretty pebble.

Similarly, there is handsome – a word which women would prefer miss them, though we see it used in older texts. I imagine you’d get the same response by calling a woman “comely” in the target parking lot. Even when used on the preferred individual, the word has a dsort of pliable meaning based on tone. Imagine a woman complimenting her grandchild at an elementary school performance versus another gasping as George Clooney walks into the room in a tuxedo. English is almost like a tonal language sometimes (rarely). As an experiment try and call George Clooney handsome in the same way you’d call a horse handsome and see how it feels.

Sexy is particularly interesting because it has a sense of agency to it. I’ve heard someone refer to an image as “sexy,” but it usually has the connotation of being about the person behind the image – what they do, how they act, etc. The word is more about implications than reality. Who knew attraction wasn’t just about looks? This is probably the most individualized of the words I’m talking about in this essay, since it’s all personal preference. Sexy to one person could be revolting to another.

No kink shaming.

Hot feels like the most modern word for “attractive” (I will not be entertaining any skibidi rizz objections here). It isn’t, actually. Some simple research shows that sexy evolved after hot by about 20 years or so. Better luck next time, hot.

Anyway, hot is a fun one because it can be used on both sides of the attraction inequality. Someone can be hot, which make you hot for them. As a matter of fact, it stands to reason that in order to make someone hot, one must be hot. Don’t you love symmetry? Thus, hot refers to someone that’s making your swimsuit region warm and tingly.

I never bothered to spell these definitions out before. There didn’t seem to be a good time to do it until now. I keep my pedantry on lock when I can. I’ve gotten very good at nodding with my mouth shut. But words have specific meanings, and they’re evolving faster than ever.

Maybe I should get a job at the dictionary.

Nah, that sounds boring as hell.

Words don’t just describe the world, the prescribe. Compliment a man by saying he’s pretty, you’ll probably get a scowl. Compliment a handsome woman and try to get her number, see what happens. Meanwhile beauty attempts to describe the indescribable and sexy sits on implications of personality.

Not everyone feels the need to consciously categorize like I do, but they’re doing it under the hood all the same. We drive language, then it drives us. It’s a samba, not a military march. There are flourishes, kicks, and sometimes stepped on toes.

Whether we know it or not, we all have a hand on her hip. I just happen to chat during the dance.

She doesn’t mind.

From the Rift


Thanks for Reading


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William T. Torgerson

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I write fiction in all forms and love to muse on this absurd life we share. I'm drawn to stories about systems and how people stuck within them make do.

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