Armie Hammer Showed Of His Bootleg Biker Stache And Talked About Splitting From Elizabeth Chambers


Armie Hammer Showed Of His Bootleg Biker Stache And Talked About Splitting From Elizabeth Chambers

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When we last left Armie Hammer, he was getting with Josh Lucas’ ex-wife Jessica Ciencen Henriquez after possibly getting with Rumer Willis. And between humping his way through the brown-headed chicks of Hollywood, Armie has gotten all butch bitch by helping his friend renovate an old motel near Joshua Tree in the California desert. And to promote Rebecca and Death On The Nile, Armie did a photoshoot (co-starring his horseshoe pubestach) for British GQ and he also talks to them about quarantining in the Cayman Islands, his split from his wife of 10 years, Elizabeth Chambers, and his “suburban Floridian dad after watching ten minutes of Tiger King” look.

Before Armie and Elizabeth announced that they were as done as me three-minutes into The Lone Ranger, they were on lockdown in the Cayman Islands where Armie’s dad and his new stepmom live. But while you may be thinking that quarantining in your rich daddy’s paradise palace is the way to do lockdown, switch your brain from “jealousy” mode to “sympathy” mode and let a single tear squirt out of your eye as Armie tells you how awful it was:

I don’t know if there is really ever a good place to quarantine. The experience sucked so badly. The island itself handled the situation really efficiently, but they also handled it in a really intense way. It was a very draconian lockdown. They wouldn’t fly anywhere, or at least not to America. Everything was closed. I mean, everything – the gas stations, the grocery stores… Everyone just locked themselves in their house. If you’re out and they see you, you go to jail for a year. I am not kidding. One guy violated curfew by five minutes and they put them in jail for four months. They were not fucking around.

The grocery stores were closed? Hmm… so I guess that the grocery story-looking place that Elizabeth struck an Instagram pose in was actually just his dad’s gigantic pantry?

Armie went on to say that they could see the ocean from his dad’s place but couldn’t go in and couldn’t go to the beach. They really couldn’t do anything and it got to Armie, so he found himself a therapist to talk to over the phone and eventually left his kids in the Caribbean with their mother and headed back to the States (they’re still there but thankfully are no longer trapped in a seaside prison with a grocery store pantry). Speaking of Elizabeth, Armie said this about the end of his marriage.

Look, I don’t think you’ll find anyone in the world who would ever say what I’m going through is an easy thing to go through. It’s not about whether it was your idea or not, or whether you think it’s the right idea or you don’t. Either way, a separation like this is a seriously seismic event in someone’s life. And there’s a lot of shifting and a lot of growing pains and a lot of changes. Change is a universal constant. I mean, change is not a bad thing always, but that doesn’t mean it’s painless. Elizabeth and I are two adults making this decision and the priority is how do we do it in a way that affects our children the least? Or, at least, how do we help get them through this in a way that mitigates as much consternation or fear or damage on their part, you know?

Armie also talked A LOT about politics and Black Lives Matter, and if that’s something you really think you need to fill your head with, you can read it at GQ. But instead of sharing that shit, I’m going to share these pictures from the shoot of Armie looking like the double life-living husband that neighbors describe as “such a nice man” on an 80s episode of Unsolved Mysteries about the disappearance of his wife:

And of course, Armie loves it:

Evelyn [Hammer’s publicist] begged me to shave it off, but we needed to get a few shots with the tache, man. It was too damn good. Part hairy biker, part 1970s pervert, nothing in between. It didn’t take that much work, actually; I just grew it out. I started shaving my beard and wondered, “Hey, what would happen if I just leave this side, then the other side?” Boom. I was good to go.

For a long time, Armie was the human equivalent of a Royall Bay Rhum-scented gingham pocket square neatly tucked into the pocket of a navy J. Press blazer, so now that he’s single and has officially split from the feminist wife he respected too much to grab her neck in bed, he’s letting his 1970s pervert out (he really should apologize to 1970s perverts for that comparison). I say, go for it. Let that kinky bitch out, Armie! But my safe is word is: Gillette, as in use one to shave that shit off.


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