PIN-UP and Wonka star Chalamet tells us why fame hasn’t changed him and he still sticks a Yorkie up his jumper whenever he pops into a high street newsagent:
My team picked the wrong endorsements
I’m young. I’m hot. They should be giving me the big brands ads, like Pepperami, Sports Direct and Fray Bentos. But instead I’m stuck with Hollywood bullshit like Chanel, Nike and Apple TV. I never come home with a trunk full of Monster Munch, Toffos or copies of Crafty Carper. Is it any wonder I have to use the five-finger discount?
For much-needed edge
It’s a while since Call Me By Your Name and the queer kids are restless. They’re starting to notice that I’m only in sci-fi blockbusters and Disney musicals and I’m dating Kylie Jenner. So I need to get my edge back, and for that I shoplift. Consistently. Brazenly. Shouting ‘Timothée Chalamet is stealing this Warburtons Toastie loaf’ as I do it. Because I’m a bad boy.
I have an entourage
Those signs, saying ‘no more than two schoolchildren at one time’? I breeze past them. Not because I’m not a schoolchild but because I’m a star and I roll six deep; make-up, PA, PA’s PA, coke-chopper, a couple of other dudes. So when I’m lifting a pocketful of Wispa Golds and a Kinder Surprise, I’m camouflaged.
It saves me money
I command upwards of $5m dollars a movie. Post-Wonka, I’m doubling that. But what if my career tanks and I end up like Corey Haim stroke Feldman? I look after the cents by lifting everything I can – Bountys, padded envelopes, 50th birthday cards, these places have little to no CCTV. If only the Rothmans weren’t behind the counter.
It makes me feel alive
My life might seem exciting – fame, money, trousers. But, in truth, it’s mainly standing on a cold set in front of greenscreen followed by six months of selling that shit on pissant chatshows. So I need the thrill of pinching some tea towels, four cans of Strongbow Dark Fruits and a packet of Space Raiders to stay alive. Do it. Steal a Twister from the freezer. You’ll never look back.
