6 Mai 2016 Lasă un comentariu
Beyond Cool? by Katie Fitzpatrick
I once confessed to having volunteered on a political campaign. My friend reacted with surprise: “But, nobody actually does that, do they?” With that roundabout question, he accused me of two crimes: one political, the other aesthetic. My past commitments made me appear ideologically naïve—did I really believe in electoral politics? But they also exposed me as profoundly uncool. Knocking on doors and pushing pamphlets struck my friend as too nakedly earnest, too embarrassingly sincere. After all, you can’t wink ironically when you’re standing on a stranger’s door, rattling on about your favorite candidate.
This response grated on me. If being cool meant I couldn’t be politically committed, I told myself, then maybe I didn’t want to be cool anyway. In fact, that was a suspicion I’d long harbored. I’ve always been drawn to the outsider crowd, even though I could never pull off the look myself. In high school, I was an honor roll student and cheerleader who bussed downtown on the weekend to pick up silk-screened Sex Pistols t-shirts. I desperately wanted to mold myself to my friends’ aloof posture, but I could never suppress an earnestness that marked me as unavoidably uncool.