The Overrated Guilty Pleasures of America
Guess what! It’s time for another guest blog! Today’s post comes from the ever-fabulous Jen O’Neill. Jen is a #PMP-in-training; a fierce 20-something from NY who goes to school in Boston and is currently spending the semester in Madrid, just traipsing around Europe in general.
While she’s been away, miss O’Neill has had time to reflect on the quintessential things that makes America America – for better or worse. And yeah, she has a love/ hate relationship with them. Check out the musings of this chick and give her a follow on Twitter @jenonizzle
Carrie Bradshaw – She’s the narcissistic protagonist of the ultimate New York City fantasy. Sometimes, she’s the most relatable, but mostly she’s the most self-absorbed of the Sex & the City clan. She might as well be a Leo with the way she redirect all conversations to herself and her musings of To Big or Not To Big. But sure, it would be really nice to put in a few hours a week to write a sex and love column and spend the rest of your time prancing around Manhattan in Manolos being charmed by men and living in a kitschy NYC apartment. People may not necessarily like Carrie Bradshaw for Carrie Bradshaw, they like the idea of Carrie Bradshaw.
Cosmopolitan – It’s like Seventeen magazine had a love child with a Victoria’s Secret catalogue topped off with two dozen pages of sex tips. The articles repeat themselves with different wording every month and the clothes featured are mediocre at best. In its defense, Cosmo is the only American magazine that gives sex tips at length and in detail. Though, even those, are chock full of comical diction. Not to mention the “WTF does anyone actually do this?” dating advice articles. People worship Cosmo, yet it does not churn out any refreshing, new content except the same tired old cover celebrities, headlines and sex tips. Get it together, America.
Hipsters – Everyone seems to have a love, an awkward fascination or a loathing of hipsters. Why though? Just leave these people in Brooklyn in peace to listen to Animal Collective as they sip their PBR wearing their flannel and their unwashed hair. Hipsters are overrated because anyone can be called a hipster now and thus the word itself becomes too ironic and loses its luster entirely. There are frauds left and right decked out in sweaters with armpit holes from Urban Outfitters and neon bodysuits from American Apparel. You say hipster, she says American Spirits and Seattle and he says Chloe Sevigny. When someone says to a person that dresses like a hipster, “You’re such a hipster,” they scowl and reject this notion but secretly, in their heads, they’re beaming. Le sigh.
Sweatpants – No matter how comfortable they silently proclaim to be, sweatpants will always look sloppy. It doesn’t matter if you paid $60 for those Victoria’s Secret ones with the word PINK across the butt or you’re rocking some tattered old sweats with cigarette burns in them. Sure, sweatpants are great for a lazy Sunday when you don’t plan on leaving the house. Are you going to the gym? Staying in bed all day? If you answer “no” to both these questions, go change your pants.
Kim Kardashian – Just another sex tape rags to gaudy Bentley riches story. She’s America’s modern day Barbie doll that walks and talks and sometimes talks on to people on speakerphone on her Blackberry. We waste brain cells watching thirty minute segments of someone who never tires of the smoky eye and really does nothing but sit around and whine. This futile obsession needs to end because it only leads to a road to nowhere. She may be aesthetically pleasing and blessed with fine ahem, assets, but to say that, you need to credit 75% of that statement to MAC Cosmetics. If you want to spend your time idolizing celebrities, there are more worthwhile ones out there, try starting with Meryl Streep (talent) and Lindsay Lohan (mesmerizing train wreck).
“Deep” Twitter accounts – Enough with the Twitter accounts that specialize in the “Don’t cry because it’s over, smile because it happened” type tweets. Go find a home for yourself in a junior high school girl’s locker in fluorescent colors and a girly font. Or, relocate to Tumblr. Twitter doesn’t really need to be polluted with cliché vom-inducing optimism when the space could better be used for knowledge, news and wit.