Welcome to the frump fest (title written before post)

I’ve been feeling really strange about something and I thought I’d share it with people who will listen and now tell everyone at school about it. My mom told me that my teachers say I’m very popular.

I never really was noticeably popular before. I mean, I wasn’t always at the bottom, but nobody would say “that girl is popular”.And, really, that made me happy. I was the protagonist in the bad nineties movie that was my middle school experiences with being a self-proclaimed “unpopular kid”. My friends and I would hang out and play Mariocart and eat frosting and be in the drama club and it would be awesome to think that someday we would be  cool hipster college kids. I was never too hardcore about it… I wasn’t one of those girls who was so obsessed with being a loser she invented the ‘popular table’ and convinced herself girly-girls were weak and stupid.

Why was it so bad to have friends? Followers? “By this Christmas, every girl will have Doc Marten boots,” joked my mom. I didn’t know what to say. I don’t wear Docs because I want other people to. They’re not ‘my thing’, I don’t own them… and I don’t mind other people wearing them. But what kind of  a life is one where you decide what the trends are, until you are just part of a trend instead of being unique? Is it selfish to not want to share my personality completely?

Maybe I just feel like I’m different from Them. They are people, but a different species than anyone I knew in China. The girls are all nice enough (some are extra nice) except for the occasional Mean Girl. They all have to find subtle ways to draw attention to what makes them unique, because it seems illegal to shake everything up. I’m like Luna Lovegood and Stargirl all in one (sorry for the self-flattery). I feel like Igo from being the weird one to being the cool new unique one with everything I do- discover a new style to be inspired by, change schools, move houses, worship Daria more, hate Daria more, understand silent words better. If popularity is such a changing industry, it sounds like I wouldn’t last long in it. Maybe I don’t want to get involved. Maybe I’m making up excuses not to get involved because I don’t want to be sucked into being one of the girls who thinks thrift stores are for donating to alone.

Why am I being so condescending to Them? Why am I making it capital? Why is my tone in this post so superior when I don’t feel superior at all? I’m no better… just different. Yet, I don’t want to be like Them. Of course, every single one of Them is unique, but I’m more theatrical when I show everyone through fashion for example, which seems to be a horrifying idea.

I don’t even know what this post is about. I just needed to pour out a few thoughts that, in words, don’t match up at all. Can you make them work?

But before I get into this too much, I want to ask myself- am I even popular at all?

Wearing: Blazer: mom’s. I have claimed it and it shall be mine. Shirt: Salvation Army. Skirt: Random thrift store. Broach: My grandmother gave it to me when I was a little sparkle-lover. Fingerless gloves (fishnet with white lace): Made by me. Shoes: (not visible in these pictures): Doctor Martens

Sorry that this post is so dumb.

What are your thoughts about popularity? Is it good, bad, or neither?

Advertisements

3 thoughts on “Welcome to the frump fest (title written before post)

  1. I just discovered you in Rookie and feel like hugging you cause we simply think alike! ok, personally, popularity is dangerous. it’s like fire. when it’s only a light in the candle, it’s fun but when it turns into flames, it eats you up. So in a way, if you can manage the fire, maybe it’s good. but if you are overwhelmed by it (like me) then popularity will be a boomerang aiming straight at your face. OMG, I feel so chatty. I will stop typing now

Whenever I get a comment, I become as happy as a lark blowing bubbles in the dark.

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s