Just like modern politics needed a new hero, the women of Britain needed a sex symbol - a crush, a frisson, an obsession. Times have changed. We're no longer seduced by the heartthrobs of yore, some muscly James Bond type with a shiny suit, an estate agent-esque ability for persuasion and god-awful driving shoes. We may enjoy the movies, but we don't actually want a macho 007. Hence the rise of the complex, esoteric, fey idol - the Benedict Cumberbatches, the Eddie Redmaynes, the Tom Hiddlestons.

But, unlike other notable pin-ups on the current crush landscape, Jeremy Corbyn unites both fantasies. He's kind but powerful, sensitive but strident, gruff but warm, alpha but somehow cuddly.

Before being elected Labour leader, he was just some moralistic old guy with a commendable ability to rock a baker-boy cap, the kind of guy you'd lazily flirt with at a wedding - if he happened to be your friend's relative and the party was dry - with little or no intention of ever really seeing him naked. But, as his leadership campaign gained momentum, the attraction grew. It turned into something more. It's unavoidable, because Corbyn's everything you want a man to be - unflappable, intelligent, principled, good in the kitchen (he makes jam). He'd be more likely to mutter socialist economic policy in your ear than sleazily offer you a cocktail (he doesn't drink). He's the most fanciable man around.

Forget Milifandom: Corbyn doesn't need a hashtag instigated by a hormonal schoolgirl to win a place in our hearts. He's a slamming hottie without making an effort. He's a maverick with a heart of gold. An outsider. In fact, forget James Dean, he's the ultimate rebel - but a rebel with a cause.

'Corbyn is always himself - he'll rock up to your date in socks and rubber pool slides'

The crush may seem strange. Who really fancies someone who's 66, enjoys pottering around an allotment and is saddled with Bernard as a middle name? But think of the competition. Politicians are the unsexiest men alive. Even when they are explicitly sexual - see Baron John Sewel in a bra and leather jacket or, way back when, John Major getting down to business with Edwina Currie - they are never sexy. It's because they try too hard. Corbyn is always himself. He'll rock up to your date (or pose for pre-conference photos) in socks and rubber pool slides. He'll refuse to iron his suit and deliberately forget his tie. He'll answer to no man.

The smartest thing Camp Corbyn ever did during the pre-election fight was tell him to feign awkwardness at being fancied; he said he was "embarrassed" when quizzed about the rabid mothers on Mumsnet labelling him "attractive in a world-weary old sea-dog sort of way". He was playing hard to get, rejecting our advances and reeling us in. Corbyn treats us mean and keeps us keen. It's the ultimate turn-on. Just as he toys with the media - refusing interviews, going to the pub rather than appearing on TV, blanking pestering reporters - he also toys with our hearts. It's a cat-and-mouse game and I've become obsessed.

But, whatever he says about not wanting to be adored, obsession is the aim. He and his team are brand-building like Simon Cowell trying to push his latest preteen boy band. With the same vigour as One Direction or an aspiring YouTuber or Instagrammer - Lucky Blue Smith, Nash Grier and the like - Corbyn uses the internet to draw in his fans. #JezWeCan may have been the hottest hashtag of the year. He eschews traditional media in favour of direct channels, using well-timed posts to casually court his fans. He is every inch the modern heartthrob.

But look beyond the persona and his policies read like the world's best dating ad - he's anti-austerity (aka not frugal), pro rent control and right to buy (aka good around the home) and a pacifist (swoon - a gentleman). Even the way he presents his ideas speaks of boyfriend material. Look at the way he runs PMQs - all discussion, questions from the public and openness. He'd be the kind of guy who'd talk out your problems and listen to your woes.

He'd never ghost you when things got hard before settling down with some near-mute blonde girl, but would love you for your opinions.

While we sit through other politicians' showy, awkward speeches like bad first dates, with Corbyn we're always engaged.

Smart girls all know that nice is the new hot. And while Corbyn can be fierce, he's also kind, sincere and honourable. Just look at all those thinkpieces celebrating a return to principles in left-wing politics. That said, the kindest boys are always the freakiest - the dark horses.

Sure, we may mock Cameron and co for their declarations that Corbyn is a "terrorist-sympathiser" or "a threat to national security", but really they're right to flag him as a closet bad boy. The way he passive-aggressively hates the monarchy (he's a committed republican, but getting rid of the Queen is "not the fight I'm going to fight") reminds me of the way all my best boyfriends, the real wild cards, subtly undermined my parents.

There's nothing sexier than a bit of insolence. You can bet Corbyn's got a sensual dark side - he's not the kind of guy to engage in anything unsavoury with a farm animal, but you can imagine he'd have the same single-eyed vision and confidence in the bedroom as at the podium.

Each day we're warned against him. The biggest criticism? He'll never reach power. Even those who couldn't win an election against him were questioning his ability to pull in votes. "Unelectable" is the same as "unsuitable". And the more you're told you shouldn't like someone, the more you do - it's a dating cliché as old as time. So the more they warn us against him, the faster we fall.

Corbyn is 2015's top crush, unlikely yet irrepressible. The man we shouldn't want but we really, really do.

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Follow Lou Stoppard on Twitter: @LouStoppard