It’s a balmy Sunday afternoon in Rittenhouse Square when Philadelphians, transplants, and Delco natives flood the park to see a spectacle—the Miles Teller Lookalike Contest.
The craze for celebrity doppelganger contests started in New York when Anthony Po posted signs about a purported “Timothée Chalamet Look alike Contest.” Anticipation for the contest rose in the days and weeks prior, with some even speculating whether Chalamet himself would make an appearance at the contest. Naysayers, like the infamous Club Chalamet on X—formerly known as Twitter—were proven wrong when on the day of the contest, the sea of gatherers in Washington Square Park parted for none other than Chalamet himself. While most lookalike contests since have not replicated nearly the same magnitude as the Timmy Chalamet competition, they’ve been a raging success nonetheless.
A little over a month since the original, these contests have taken the world by storm. Notably, the most endearing part of these pageants is the true guerilla–style promotion of the event. Flyers, social media, and good old word–of–mouth are the most critical avenues for promoting these events. While the Timmy T contest in New York was invented by an artist and YouTuber with a sizeable social media presence, the ensuing contents have been invented and held by regular folks.
However, the true serendipitous nature of these contests was captured in a surprise appearance from Po at today’s Miles Teller contest. Po tells Street that he was coincidentally in Philadelphia, down the block from Rittenhouse when a friend told him that the Miles Teller lookalike contest was taking place. He runs to the park just in time for the winner to be crowned. Shortly after, he humbly tells Street that he doesn’t mind if the competition's origination isn’t credited to him. Rather, he says, “If I can give people a story to tell their grandkids, I can leave the earth a better place.”
The hosts of the Miles Teller Lookalike Contest, Helene Chibane and Gabi Greco—Delco natives and Philadelphia college students at Thomas Jefferson University and Drexel University, respectively—tell Street that their intention was to take their minds off their own exams by way of the lighthearted extravaganza.
Twenty–two total lookalike contenders entered the contest, with ages ranging from 19 to seemingly their mid–30s. Some of the University of Pennsylvania’s and 34th Street Magazine’s finest entered, including Music Editor Nishanth Bhargava (C ‘27) and The Daily Pennsylvanian Deputy Opinion Editor Izzy Feinfeld (C ‘27). While Nishanth sported a mustache with an uncanny resemblance to Teller’s in Top Gun: Maverick, Izzy was ultimately declared a semi–champion as the third–place winner.
In first place came entrant three, Henry Luce. The unassuming man in a red Philadelphia Phillies sweatshirt won the hearts of the judges allegedly based on his “vibe,” according to one judge—who took to TikTok after the competition to declare that in actuality she thought entrant 21, sporting a Top Gun–eseque jacket, should have won.
While some participants and judges may have felt slighted by the results of the contest, the essence of these competitions is about gathering rather than the precision or accuracy of the lookalike outcome. Hundreds of locals gathered in Rittenhouse Square on a Sunday afternoon in late November. Among the crowd were some of Street’s own writers, surveying the scene while supporting our own entrants. To summarize the event, Street has collected a mosaic of our entrants’ reflections and our writers’ thoughts about the whole spectacle itself.
Miles Teller Lookalike Contest Entrants and Victors Tell All!
Third Place Winner, Izzy Feinfeld
The Miles Teller lookalike contest was a phenomenal experience. It was an honor to represent such a talented actor this afternoon. I’d like to shout out 34th Street Magazine for encouraging me to attend the event and giving me so much support.
—Izzy Feinfeld, Daily Pennsylvanian Deputy Opinion Editor
Contestant, Nishanth Bhargava
I still remember crying in front of my family television watching the 2012 presidential debates. Democratic candidate Barack Obama had said Republican candidate Mitt Romney was going to send back children of immigrants who were covered by Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals. As a child of immigrants who didn’t know what DACA was, I sobbed in fear of being repatriated to India. But while Romney put fear in my heart, Obama gave me hope—hope for an America where everyone belongs. But the fire of that hope threatens to be extinguished soon. Today, two women and three men of color sought to break into the celebrity impersonator community—not a single one made it through the first round. It seems clear that America is not yet ready for an Indian Miles Teller—but I still believe that America is a nation for all peoples. We are still “miles” away from our dream of a racially harmonious America—and it’s our job to “tell” it like it is.
—Nishanth Bhargava, Music Editor
Contestant, Ellie Clark
Is there anything more daring than “committing to the bit?” Donned in a cargo jumpsuit, a borrowed jacket, and an eyebrow–pencil mustache, I made my way to Rittenhouse Square with my best Miles Teller grin. I projected my best image of confidence, proudly telling a Philadelphia Inquirer reporter that I was sure I could “win the whole damn thing.” But between posing for photos and engaging in the fanfare of the lookalike contest, I felt out of place. Despite being surrounded by a dense foliage of woman onlookers, I was one of two woman contestants being judged on my resemblance to Miles Teller. The lookalike contest catered to those upholding the status quo—white men who resembled Miles Teller—rather than us outsiders “committing to the bit.” After all, the winner was an everyman who showed out in a simple Phillies sweatshirt. The perceived insanity of the contest was underscored by a sense of accessibility: finding the closest everyday resemblance to Miles Teller in a crowd of Philadelphians. Maybe the world couldn’t find that resemblance in a woman contestant, or maybe the world isn’t ready for a woman Miles Teller … but they will be.
—Ellie Clark, Style beat
Contestant, Luiza Sulea
The robed wizard is amazingly easy to miss in the lineup behind the wall of leather jackets. The elastic on his fake beard stretching over his wrinkled face, he dons no similarity to our celebrity of the day, but an explanation he does not believe: “I’m drunk Miles Teller.” I take a second to tell Ellie, my brave fellow woman Teller and friend, that the wizard is stupid. But he is also beautiful. His involvement is silly, his getup is impractical, and his pomp and circumstance are almost as loud as the giggling in line. And as we lean in for a selfie together, we embrace our inner divas, knowing that we are being judged. Our time for being questioned is fleeting, and while that means that our risk is not being celebrated, it also means that we can fade into the background comfortably. We know our roles, the wizard and I. We have come entirely for ourselves. We are being judged, and then we are not, and we do not care.
—Luiza Sulea, Features beat
REFLECTIONS FROM THE STREET (aka Street’s Take on the Teller Doppelganger Pageant)
Are celebrity lookalike contests modern reconciliations with beauty pageants? In a way, the lookalike competition mirrored all the basic functions of pageantry—the numbers, Q&As, and even semblance of dress up—albeit in a bomber jacket instead of a gown. The difference, however, is the democratization of judging—at least in a sense. The organizers randomly picked judges from names in a hat. While Focus Editor Sophia Rosser and I put our names in the mix, the five judges all happened to be white women in their mid–20s with blond highlights and looked like they were named Cheyenne—which, in fact, one of them was. These judges were supposed to simply rank the screams of the crowd, not necessarily their own opinions of the contestants. Power was intended to be transferred from the judges as the sole arbiters of taste to the masses. If you scream loud enough, you have a voice in the public forum. And as Jules’ eardrums can tell you—boy, did I scream.
—Norah Rami, Digital Managing Editor
It takes an insane amount of hubris to enter a lookalike contest. I sat in Rittenhouse, surrounded by the remaining fall foliage, gaggles of woman friends, and 21 men who didn’t know what they looked like. Around four honorably entered—they had the nose, the downturned eyes, and the potential to yell “Turn my pages, BITCH!” with the right gusto. But the remainder gelled their peach fuzz into a semblance of a mustache, put on army green, and entered with an air of delusion that I can only be amazed at.
—Hannah Sung, Features Editor
In late–stage capitalism, there is little opportunity for third spaces. Maybe a coffee shop, if you're willing to cough up $8 for a latte, or a library if you don't mind quiet, but the recent rash of viral lookalike contests may just be the solution to our loneliness epidemic. I, for one, felt an overwhelming wave of togetherness while crudely judging a row of Miles Teller–esque men. As my eardrums blow out from screaming for Street–backed candidates Nishanth Bhargava (C ‘27) (snubbed) and Izzy Feinfeld (C ‘27) (third place), I couldn't help but wonder, are these the modern–day public executions for entertainment? Maybe medieval times had it right, all we peasants really want is an opportunity to gather in the town square and belligerently yell at a group of men.
—Jules Lingenfelter, Features Editor
“My girlfriend only dates me because I look like Miles Teller,” uttered Joe, the competition’s second–place winner. To my surprise, the three humble winners did not come to Rittenhouse Square looking for love. What is a celebrity lookalike contest if not to garner the attention of your city’s most eligible bachelorettes? Moments later, I watched Joe reject a fangirl’s request for his Snapchat while Henry posed for a photo–op with his mom and girlfriend—the women who encouraged him to participate.
—Kate Ratner, Assignments Editor
As I watched a lineup of Miles Teller lookalikes stand awkwardly in Rittenhouse Square like a row of dominos, a realization hit me: This was a space where gender dynamics were being redefined. Here, women—who made up 95% of the crowd—weren’t just passive onlookers; they were judges, critics, and the loudest voices in the audience, scrutinizing and evaluating men in the same way they have scrutinized us for centuries. For so long, we women have been told to sit still, speak softly, and stay out of sight—but here, we stood tall like the Statue of Liberty and yelled like men watching a Sunday football game, making ourselves impossible to ignore. The contest was never about the Miles Tellers lookalikes with their patchy mustaches and blunt jawlines. It was about women owning the space, holding power, and ranking men like how we’d rank our thrift store finds. Perhaps feminism is alive and well after all.
—Samantha Hsiung, Arts beat
Within a row of pristine bomber jackets and starched jumpsuits, a man in a red Phillies sweatshirt stood out from the rest, stealing the hearts of the crowd. Something about it said working–class. This was no bougie “Spirit Halloween” Miles Teller, as I heard an audience member say. This Miles Teller spoke to the practical spirit of Philadelphians. His understated aura was further confirmed when he nonchalantly responded to a question about his outfit, indicating that this was nothing special, but something he wore every day. Indeed, there was no “posing” by this Miles Teller, even though they were all competing to in some way emulate the actor. He was genuine, giving an “I woke up like this” vibe that we all loved. In the end, it was the hardworking Teller of Whiplash that carried the day, not the arrogant “Rooster” of Top Gun: Maverick.
—Bobby “The Can” McCann, Focus beat
I believe that fun and whimsy should not be age–restricted … most of the time. The Miles Teller Lookalike Contest was not one of those times. I got such severe secondhand embarrassment from the multiple 30 or even 40–something men competing—don’t they know attention–seeking behaviors in an extremely online way are a Generation Z exclusive? Worry about taxes. Or starting a family. Or getting a vasectomy. Or whatever else you have to worry about when your time isn’t eaten up by scheduling spring semester classes and the incredibly dramatic social politics of being a theater kid. If you’re over 27 and you’re wasting time on youthful foolish fancies like viral celebrity lookalike contests, I think you should consider simply acting your age.
—Isaac Pollock, Film & TV Editor
While the competition was happening, unfortunately, my stomach was rumbling and the day was too beautiful to not enjoy life’s finest delicacies—so I ran off to pursue a rosemary sea salt bagel with whitefish salad during the competition. The middle of the bagel was pillowy soft, yet chewy and crispy on the outside. The whitefish salad was full of layered flavors, balancing acidity and richness.
I’m sure the winner found a little joy in looking like a celebrity widely recognized for being attractive, and I found a little joy on a beautiful day with a lovely meal.
—Fiona Herzog, Arts Editor
