From Shakin’ Stevens to Dr Karl Kennedy, we can learn so much from our celebrity crushes

Never meet your Jordan Catalano – let Jordan Catalano forever be a beautiful unicorn in your imagination

Double-denim: Shakin’ Stevens was an ‘80s demi-God (Rex)

Yesterday, writer Tim Carmody asked Twitter to share its most formative, life-changing celebrity crushes (revealing that his own were, variously, Whitney Houston, Svetlana Boginskaya, Nigella Lawson), and the thread immediately went viral.

Hundreds of people shared their undying devotion to all the hormone-soaked 1990s classics: Michelle Pfeiffer as Catwoman; Keanu Reeves in most things; pretty much all of New Kids on the Block.

After a few hours of this, though, Carmody noted that many people were also claiming “non-human” crushes such as Jareth the Goblin King (played by David Bowie in Labyrinth) and “sexy cartoon fox Robin Hood”.

It struck me what an odd thing it is to have a celebrity crush, and that each example must say so much about us as people.

So, in the interests of armchair psychology – and in the style of a famous Ariana Grande-inspired internet meme – here are three formative celebrity crushes of mine.

One taught me love: Shakin’ Stevens
In the early 1980s, you couldn’t move for rockabilly pop star Shakin’ Stevens doing his knock-kneed bop all over TV. As a small child, I didn’t really understand that he was a sort of diluted Welsh Elvis; I just fell hard for his shiny black quiff and double-denim stylings, and I wanted nothing more than to dance with him on TV.

So, I wrote to Jim’ll Fix It. Yes, the now-problematic kids’ TV show, where now extremely problematic Jimmy Savile, at least nominally, arranged for kids to have their celebrity dreams come true. I wrote a long, heartfelt letter, complete with illustrations in case Shakin’ Stevens might be confused about what “dancing” looked like.

My tale, unlike so many, comes to a happy end: neither Jimmy Savile nor Shakin’ Stevens replied. Luckily, I took all this in my stride – largely because I had Shakin’ Stevens “This Ole House” and “Green Door” confused, and figured that he was probably too busy with house repairs, and the repainting of his front door – and forgave him.

What Shakin’ Stevens taught me about myself: I am a sucker for a man in double-denim and a housing crisis.

One taught me patience: Jordan Catalano from My So-Called Life
To say the words “Jordan Catalano” in a room full of people in their late 30s and early 40s is to have half of that room start looking wistfully off into space while twirling its hair.

Jordan Catalano, played by Jared Leto in angsty 1990s teen drama My So-Called Life, was this ethereally beautiful angel in a leather necklace and plaid shirt, forever sadly strumming out a sub-Nirvana ballad on his guitar, hinting at either deep internal turmoil or just a brain full of nothing, and never quite ever getting around to being your boyfriend.

What Jordan Catalano taught me me about myself: I fell in love with about eight Jordan Catalanos in sixth-form college, but the day one of them actually detached himself from his friendship group and noticed me in the background was the most disappointing day of my life.

There was no meeting of minds, or deep emotional connection. There was brainless conversation, and the cadging of lifts to friends’ houses, and interminable waits while his band soundchecked. Never meet your Jordan Catalano. Let Jordan Catalano forever be a beautiful unicorn in your imagination.

One taught me pain: Justin Fletcher as Lord Tumble
Parenthood teaches you many things – about patience, about your unexpected capacity for love, about how your own hidden strengths can surface to service the person you love so much.

It also teaches you that, when you mix three years of poor sleep with constant exposure to kids’ TV, you’re going to develop some interesting emotional reactions. One of mine was developing a crush on a character played by BBC children's entertainer, Justin Fletcher.

Lord Tumble is a clown, albeit one in a top hat and monocle. He is a chubby clown in yellow trousers and red Doctor Martens and, to add insult to injury, he even has drawn-on freckles and a red nose. However, I still get a pleasurable tingle down my spine when he does a little dance and thocks a ball with a croquet mallet every morning, and I cannot explain it.

What Lord Tumble taught me me about myself: That having two kids has utterly broken my brain.

These aren’t the only formative celebrity crushes I had, of course – here are some honourable mentions and the wisdom they each brought to my life: Dr Karl Kennedy from Neighbours (I like an authority figure); Billy Kennedy from Neighbours (I also like authority figures’ sons); Michael Praed as Robin of Sherwood (I will not trust a fey man of the forest unless he has a perfectly blown-out shaggy mullet), and – finally – Dr Peter Venkman from The Real Ghostbusters cartoon (a somewhat prophetic hint that I will always prefer the own-brand version of a beloved icon – I’m looking at you, fake Bounty bars from Lidl).

Gosh, this has been enlightening. Who needs psychology? Just get yourself a TV boyfriend.