Yes, it might be the weekend. And you are in some way reading this online, which means you are in some way a person who lives in comfort or at least has access to comfort. And you have the time to read ’80s/’90s nostalgia blogs, so yeah–thinks are looking up for you and me both, Reader!
But still. We have a lot that gets us down–parents, kids, the petit(e) ami(e), the spouse, the ex, the future ex, the boss, The Man, the discontinuation of Lemon Jolly Ranchers*, etc. You know, heavy stuff.
So what are we gonna do about it? We’re gonna go Suburban Goth.
We’re going to line our lips in black liner, or at least liner several shades darker than the rest of our lips. We’re going to rock the “smoky eye” before that was even a thing. And yeah, we’ll rock it even if we are GUYS. Guys who aren’t even Adam Lambert. We’re going to paint our nails black long before the Chanel team even DREAMED of “Black Satin” nail lacquer. (In the word’s of Tim Gunn, “Black nail polish, where is thy sting?”)
We’re going to cite gasoline as our favorite scent and Nine Inch Nails as our favorite band. We’re going to replace our black satin and silver heart chokers from Khol’s with dog-collar chokers, also from Khol’s. We’re going to utter phrases like “I’m not having a birthday this year” and “I’ll just take another Study Hall period.”And you know we’re going to go to the mall…because this multi-pierced part-time-vegan still eats gummy worms in bulk. And don’t call me “Rachel” anymore, it’s “Shadow,” OK?
CDs? You can keep your capitalist fodder. My friends and I are mixing tapes. Tapes full of songs you wouldn’t even call “songs.” I’m from EAST CENTRAL INDIANA. You don’t understand my pain!
And ultimately, we’re going to get confronted by an earnest, adorable Butters in an inappropriate way, and re-embrace the light. AFTER it stops raining…
*Yes, I am aware that I’ve referenced the demise of Lemon Jolly Ranchers twice in one week, and yes I am going to reference it again, and yes I AM that sad about it to this day.