Hunter Schafer covers the latest issue of GQ, partly to promote her work in her first-ever film, Cuckoo, and partly to just talk about everything else she has going on, from art projects to even more acting projects in film and television, and on and on. I never really paid much attention to her beyond “wow, her style is so good” and “she’s a youth.” But she comes across as pretty rad (do people still say that?). Basically, this cover profile called me a Boomer and I’m still recovering from that. She’s 25 years old and she’s already lived so many lives. You can read the full piece here, and here are some highlights:

She’s new to this: “Some people are like, Oh, I’ve been here a lot of times before. I don’t think I’ve been here a lot of times before. But I do think within this life, I’ve been through a lot of things that force you to grow up pretty fast. And whether it’s the transness or the fame, both of those are big things as far as really— I can’t just wing this sh-t. I really have to be intentional about the way I’m moving in the world. In some ways it’s really lucky because I feel like it’s prepared me for the life I have now. But in other ways it’s like, I don’t know, you should have just been a kid and been a dumbass.”

She was very creative very early on: “I’m pretty sure I needed it as a way to externalize what I didn’t feel I could externalize with myself. I was a trans kid who didn’t transition until I was in high school. I had this whole world and person inside of me that couldn’t come out in the way it was supposed to. I think I really needed it as a tool.”

A pandemic breakdown: “I had probably what’s close to a mental breakdown and then bought a truck and drove across the country” is how she initially described it to me. But when we talk about it more over lunch the next day, it’s clear it was an intense and extended personal crisis. “I remember having a moment where I knew that something was wrong…I knew I needed help.” So she got out of her apartment, and Los Angeles. That May, she loaded up her truck and began driving east, aiming for her sister’s place in Boone, North Carolina. On the road, she felt an immediate lift. “It was the happiest I had been in COVID at that point,” she says. “It was something to do, keep my eyes on the road.” She cruised through Arizona, Texas, and Kentucky, landing in Boone five days later.

She dated Rosalía for five months in 2019: These days, they’re friends, which is something Schafer is proud of. They’ve been spotted around town recently, getting smoothies and testing out couches. “I have really beautiful friendships with people that I was once romantically involved with,” she says. With Rosalía, “she’s family no matter what. It’s been so much speculation for so long. Part of us just wants to get it over with, and then another part is like, ‘It’s none of anybody’s f–king business!’ ” Ultimately, though, “it’s something I’m happy to share. And I think she feels that way too.”

Recently, she’s tried to avoid saying the word ‘trans’ in interviews entirely. “As soon as I say it, it gets blastoff. It took a while to learn that and it also took a while to learn that I don’t want to be [reduced to] that, and I find it ultimately demeaning to me and what I want to do. Especially after high school, I was sick of talking about it. I worked so hard to get to where I am, past these really hard points in my transition, and now I just want to be a girl and finally move on. It’s a privilege, but it’s been very intentional. I’ve gotten offered tons of trans roles, and I just don’t want to do it. I don’t want to talk about it.”

She still feels guilt though: “I know for a fact that I’m one of the most famous trans people in media right now, and I do feel a sense of responsibility, and maybe a little bit of guilt, for not being more of a spokesperson. But ultimately, I really do believe that not making it the centerpiece to what I’m doing will allow me to get further. And I think getting further and doing awesome sh-t, in the interest of ‘the movement,’ will be way more helpful than talking about it all the time.”

There’s no utopia: “I’ve kind of lost interest in achieving some sort of utopia. I am totally cool with people hating me for being trans or calling me a man. I am not interested in trying to convince them anymore. As long as you’re staying in your lane”—she points away from her, across the room—“work. Work! Do that. And I’m going to be over here with people I love.”

She’s doing a ‘Girls’ rewatch: It’s a show she adores and refers to as a “period piece.. In the aesthetic sense, I mean. Their outfits feel so heightened. Is that what it was like?”

A Capricorn: “I am a proper Capricorn. I want to control everything.”

[From GQ]

“I do feel a sense of responsibility, and maybe a little bit of guilt, for not being more of a spokesperson. But ultimately, I really do believe that not making it the centerpiece to what I’m doing will allow me to get further.” True or false? She has to do what’s right for her, and what feels authentic for her, but I also understand why she feels guilty – she’s a bright, visible beacon of hope for so many trans kids. But maybe being a beacon of hope can just be living her life, working, thriving, surviving and existing like everyone else. Also: Girls as a period piece? The last season of Girls aired in 2017, just seven years ago! It’s not a f–king period piece, OH MY GOD. What is wrong with the youths??

Photos courtesy of Cover Images. Cover courtesy of GQ.