I have a lot of trouble with pride. For as long as I can remember, my two goals in life have been this:
2. If you don’t win (or even if you do), always save face.
I can’t really tell you why I became a competitive and prideful person, but most of the time I like to blame my parents who have the same competitive and prideful tendencies. The difference is, the both of them combined made a mega-monster (me) of competitiveness and pride that is a little over the top.
Part of having this tendency toward pride and saving face is that I haven’t always felt comfortable telling the world what I really enjoy. Especially when it comes to media. When I was a teenager, I loved reading music and architecture magazines just as much as I loved reading Cosmopolitan. But Cosmo was what vapid girls read, so when asked what magazines I enjoyed reading, I only talked about Rolling Stone and Architectural Digest. Looking back, these are kind of nerdy things to be telling everyone you read in high school, but I thought it made me seem cultured and smart.
I also enjoyed the movie 10 Things I Hate About You just as much (if not more!) than Fight Club and Requiem for a Dream. However, again, 10 Things seemed shallow, so I only mentioned Fight Club and Requiem because those made me seem more open minded and artsy.
I loved good ol’ country Taylor Swift just as much as I loved my favorite punk bands — but I wasn’t shouting it from the rooftops. You get the picture.
So, as I grew up and people continued to ask me questions about what my favorite books, movies, tv shows and music were…I started to get over saving face little by little. At least enough to tell you about it now.
But two TV shows remained in my “never tell anyone you watch these” show banks for a LONG time. I would splay over the couch at home watching them in secrecy. I would laugh along, getting sucked in for hours, and craving more once a season ended. For years when people would ask me what my favorite TV shows were, the titles of these two shows would never, EVER, creep across my lips.
However, I found myself watching these shows so much that I would begin validating them. I didn’t watch them because I was brainless — I watched them for the social science behind it all. Yeah! That’s it! Social science!
Eventually, I stopped caring and started embracing. I know that I am intelligent, well-rounded, and even a little cultured. I know deep down that what I watch does not make me who I am. Ladies and gentleman, I’m proud to say that YES, I love THE KARDASHIANS. and YES! I love 90% of the REAL HOUSEWIVES! I’m not ashamed anymore because the love is real. It’s real, guys. It’s real.
I love cringing at a housewife making a total fool of herself in front of cameras. I love laughing at random pranks that Khloe will play on her sisters. I love observing, analyzing, and picking a “right” side of a ridiculous argument. That is my fun and entertainment. And yes, I may once in a while spit out very stupid sounding words that I hear on these shows while in a comfortable context because I am humored by it. But that doesn’t mean I am trying to walk/talk/act like these people and more importantly, come off like one. Even if I *do* think they’re fabulous and funny.
So go ahead, judge away. I don’t give a rip. I love watching filthy rich people complain about their problems while vacationing on million dollar yachts, getting in fights at their fancy restaurants, and calling themselves fat as they squeeze into a pair of pants that probably wouldn’t even fit around my arm and cost twice the amount of my car. Don’t care.
I can’t be the only well-educated person who loves some contrived drama from overly vain rich-people! Do you love the Housewives franchise and the Kardashians as much as I do? Or are you still in the closet about them? Is there some other guilty (or not so guilty) pleasure you prefer?
In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “No Apologies.”