Advice

The ‘Noah’ Effect – Are Nice Guys Finally Trending?

Isabel Timerman, known to fans as IsabelUnhinged.
Are nice guys having a moment? And can we embrace that moment?

This is the third installment of Dating, Unhinged, an exclusive series for Playboy from writer, model, and viral content creator Isabel Timerman — better known to her loyal followers as IsabelUnhinged. She started posting videos in 2022, using social media as an outlet after a messy breakup. With her candid, painfully relatable posts, she quickly amassed a devoted following and millions of views. Now crowned the “Empress of Delululand,” she leads the delulu movement, encouraging women to embrace their fantasies with humor and positivity. Her satirical yet honest approach to dating has made her a powerful voice for those seeking empowerment through unfiltered authenticity.

We all love a man with an edge. The kind of guy who makes your mom wince and your friends kick you out of the group chat in frustration. Utterly unmarriageable but way too hot—in that twisted, self-sabotage-y sort of way—to resist. You know what, or who, I’m talking about.

Sweet one minute, nonchalant the next. One day, he’s love-bombing you; the next, he’s calling you needy. He looks flawless in vintage tees and beat-up leather jackets, all brooding stares and monosyllabic grunts. His job takes an entire paragraph to explain—some vaguely funded art-slash-culture venture that’s hosted several opening parties but hasn’t seen a dime of revenue.

There’s a reason Netflix’s hit show Nobody Wants This, about the unlikely romance between Joanne (Kristen Bell), a dating podcaster, and Noah (Adam Brody), a rabbi, is blowing up. Women are exhausted from trying to rein in some chain-smoking hottie who guards his phone like it’s full of cartel secrets. (Honestly, he might be dealing.) It’s been 13 years since Fifty Shades of Grey dropped—maybe it’s time we all embraced 50 Shades of Vanilla.

In Nobody Wants This, the couple wanders into a sex shop, and instead of having sex in the bondage aisle, they just browse and crack dumb jokes. The heartthrob isn’t some tortured bad boy—he’s honest, religious, funny, dedicated to his family, and still willing to go all in for love. He’s the answer to every guy who’s ever asked, “What do women even want?”

And while he’s just the right side of dweebish, he’s still undeniably sexy. (Bonus: in real life, actor Adam Brody is married to Gossip Girl star Leighton Meester, my icon).

I’m not sure I’ve ever met a Noah in the wild, but I’m really hoping they exist. Or maybe I have—once or twice—and completely fumbled, the way you do when you’re still stuck on the same loser ex.

In the final, gasping weeks of my last (sort of) relationship, I was set up on a blind date with a handsome triathlete who had an actual office job (desk and everything). In true delulu fashion, I talked about him for weeks after his introductory text. My friends and family dubbed him “the Yale guy”—a beacon of hope in my otherwise bleak dating landscape. He’d just ended a long-term relationship (still on good terms with his ex, naturally), and by all accounts, he was a nice, normal guy with a future.

To say I wasn’t ready is an understatement. For reasons beyond logic, I decided to down a tequila on the rocks before the date and show up in leather mini shorts and a halter top with the word “bitch” emblazoned across the chest in Swarovski crystals. After half a Peroni on his part (while I hammered down shots), the energy tanked.

“I’m looking for a soulmate,” he said.

Subtext: And that will not be you.

Maybe I should’ve worn a turtleneck.

My friend Valentina, Brazilian and gorgeous, has a long, tragic history with edgy men. Shortly after a romantic getaway upstate, where her streetwear brand-owning situationship declared his undying love, he dumped her for a Hollywood actress. His excuse? “She’s an actress,” as if that somehow explained everything.

Then there was the hot photographer she met at Jeans. The chemistry was undeniable. They danced all night, rode around the city on his motorcycle till dawn, and grabbed breakfast tacos in Williamsburg. She was ready to throw it all away—her nice apartment, her career—despite their age difference (he was younger, of course). They were even musing about future kids and a transatlantic relationship. Too bad his girlfriend had posted their two-year anniversary photos the day before. Next.

So maybe it’s time we give a shot to the guy who thinks navy is the new black and whose idea of streetwear is his college sweatshirt. In the show, Joanne gets the ick when Noah brings her mom too many flowers and throws on a blazer. But she powers through, realizing that good guys exist—and sometimes you have to recognize what’s real when it’s staring you right in the face.

But to be ready for nice, you have to want nice. You have to be tired. Tired of dating the guy who sends the same Instagram reel to three girls; tired of the guy who texts like he’s rationing vowels (Wyd, Wya?). One guy I’ve friend-zoned (for self-protection reasons) still hits me with “Wanna come over and watch a movie?” or his famous “Let’s lay down?” I admit, his West Village duplex is insane, but was that text meant for me—or was it just a mass ask? Like a mass Snap those boys used to send around in high school when their parents weren’t home?

When I didn’t reply to his 11:00 AM “Come chill” text, I later ran into him at my favorite restaurant with a well-known Victoria’s Secret model.

“That was fast,” I said.

“Well, you didn’t answer,” he replied shamelessly.

I may not have been the only option, but at least I was the first?

Recently, Valentina actually met a nice guy—through a college friend. Their first date was at a totally uncool restaurant on the Upper West Side. No Celine shades indoors, no awkward hesitation when the check came, no pinky ring, or vape. He even pulled out her chair.

He’s someone her parents would love, a new experience for her. She thinks he could be “the one.”

As for me, I really want to meet a nice guy like Noah. Eventually. One day. I can totally see it for myself. But wait. Maybe not just yet. Because, you see, there’s this one drummer…

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