I Have a Mature Adult Crush on Emma Stone

Emma Stone has always been a good actor, but I think the world realized she was Oscars-good after her performance in La La Land, where she had to act in love with a man who wore brown shirts, a tacky ring and two-tone shoes.


Call me superficial, but welcome to Hollywood.

Except Emma Stone doesn’t play that game. Like her La La Land character, she came to L.A. not just to make a name for herself, but to make something of herself. I’m projecting a bit since I don’t know her, but when I read a few years ago that she made a Power Point presentation to convince her parents to let her move to Hollywood to pursue a career, I knew I had met (vicariously, through various late-night talk show hosts) my kindred spirit. I have made two Parental Power Points in my life: once when I wanted to adopt a pet rabbit and another called Why I Should Be Allowed to Go to Cabo Unattended for My High School Senior Trip. I guess you could consider this my third, only it’s for y’all. (Emma Stone says y’all. Because she’s from Arizona?) It’s for y’all and my parents. We can call it, “I Love Emma Stone in a Not-Weird Way.” My editor called it, “I Have a Mature Adult Crush on Emma Stone,” if you read the title of this post already.

My real obsession began with Stone in the true best movie on the entire planet besides The Secret of Roan Inish, Anchorman and Failure to Launch: Superbad.

I was like, here’s this normal girl with straightened bangs and dyed-red hair who is hilarious and doesn’t drink at her own house party, probably because she’s too anxious about getting in trouble. She could 100% be my friend.

From there, I devoted my eyes to every single movie she’s ever been in, excluding Marmaduke, The Croods (certain types of animation make me nervous), Aloha for 100 problematic reasons — and yes that was not a good look but I appreciate that she apologized — plus a bunch of other movies, actually, now that I look at her IMDb page, because I only watch new movies on airplanes or when my roommate does the remote for me.

But I have a pulse and emotions, so obviously my obsession deepened with Crazy, Stupid, Love. Every time I watch that scene where she and Ryan Gosling-again laugh on his waterbed about coin bears and calf-pants, I pretend that I am Ryan Gosling.

If only to allow more oxygen into my lungs when Emma Stone quotes a High Point coffee commercial (1:15 – 1:26 in that clip). Sometimes, when people ask me what kind of coffee I’m drinking, like at a restaurant or something, I copy her accent/inflection/tone and say, “It’s decaffeinated.” No one gets it.

Which I like, because it makes it an inside-joke secret.

Here’s another thing that I pretend she told me and only me: She and her mom got matching tattoos of two blackbird feet to celebrate that her mother, a breast-cancer survivor, was cancer-free.



You saw Easy A, right? She was perfect in it.


Like Cher Horowitz and Katarina Stratford before her, her character played the modern equivalent of a classic-lit heroine so well that even those who hate to read were like, “Let me check out this ‘Scarlet Letter’ nonsense.” She gave hope to Penn Badgleys everywhere that they, too, can get the girl while dressed as a woodchuck mascot so long as they treat women with respect and reenact John Cusack’s most famous cinematic scene when called upon. I love my parents so much, but Emma Stone made me wish that my parents were Stanley Tucci and Patricia Clarkson if only so that I could turn out like her character/their daughter, Olive Penderghast.

I love that “Pocketful of Sunshine” song because of her.

The Help was all about Viola Davis and Octavia Spencer, let’s be honest, so I think the first time I realized she was Oscar-destined was in Birdman.


“A riveting performance!” I proclaimed after I chewed on some ginger because that movie made me carsick. Who knew she could act like that?

Uh — yeah, I did. Not to get all hipster-territorial over her like she’s an indie band, but I was there from day uno. Her #1 fan way before La La Land.

Here’s what Emma Stone should wear to the Oscars.

Photos via Getty Images.

Amelia Diamond

Amelia Diamond

Amelia Diamond is a writer, creative consultant, and Man Repeller alumnus living in New York City.

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