The Best Kind of Rubbish
Unbelievably, this is my fourth Fall season living here in the States, having arrived fresh off the plane from Germany in November 2018. Without us really realizing it, a small yearly tradition has established itself in our household around this time of year; we always buy the ‘Sweater Weather’ variety box of Sam Adams seasonal beers, which includes a “Jack-O” pumpkin ale and Oktoberfest beer. Honestly, it is terrible beer - cheap American beer really holds its own as the worst kind of watery garbage there is. So, when my partner came home with the all-familiar box the other night, I finally questioned the decision to uphold this tradition year after year (because I know we will keep on doing it). The thing is, as terrible as Sam Adams beer is, there’s something so comforting and delightful about cracking one open when it’s dark and chilly outside. It’s light and cheerful, usually accompanies a similarly bad TV show and warm food, and also, it’s just sometimes a laugh to make fun of yourself for doing something trashy, right?!
I fully admit it: I enjoy several other low-brow indulgences in my life too. I will always choose Cadbury’s chocolate over a posh Lindt 80% bar. I’ve got a real soft spot for trashy reality television (90 Day Finance anyone?!). Tacky Christmas decorations are everything. I still get a kick out of Britney and the Spice Girls. And my favourite part of any road trip is the promise of breakfast from McDonald’s! These things are all SO bad, so why then do they just feel SO good?!
Like the Sam Adams, each of these pleasures, in and of themselves, is relatively terrible. The quality is bad, they are unhealthy, probably unethical too. But they give me such a unique kind of joy. And I’m saying that as someone who loves arty Danish films, Haydn string quartets, and a beautifully cooked rare steak; the trash truly holds top priority in my day-to-day. Why? It could be because it demands nothing of me, financially, emotionally or otherwise. The bar is so low that my expectations are pretty much zero and therefore I am free to take as much or as little of it as I want without having to give anything back. Maybe it’s that it’s so readily accessible and gives me a break from my daily grind, or that the world is so terrible right now that even the bad things seem wonderful. Perhaps it’s who I really am at my core, and all this Proust and Beethoven is just pretend. But I do think it must be possible to love both the sublime and the ridiculous at once!
I’m trying hard to avoid using the term ‘guilty pleasure’. I’m not ashamed of liking these sorts of things and am not necessarily trying to hide the fact that I do (although I would bet that even people close to me are learning a thing or two about me in this article!). It does feel strangely vulnerable to admit to it though, like that amusing idea that was floating around a while ago about what other people would think of you if they saw how you eat when you’re alone. Admitting to liking, enjoying, even preferring the less sophisticated things in life feels very much like I’m revealing one of the most private aspects of my being.
Speaking of Fall traditions, I always think of The Rocky Horror Picture Show around Halloween (another one of my rubbish faves). When that movie came out, the actors and producers had no idea that it would become the iconic phenomenon that it is today. It’s extremely low-budget, has an absurd plot, and Susan Sarandon’s singing is… quite shocking. But it also holds such charm and vigor, you just can’t help getting pulled in by it. I think the same culture exists behind many other trashy amusements; they are bad, and we know they are bad, and we love them anyway because of the happiness they give us. The fact that Rocky Horror became so popular just shows that many of us must feel the same way, that quality isn’t everything and that even the so-called trash can be just fantastic.
Alright, I’m going to sit back with my Sam Adams lager now - cheers everyone! Here’s to all the wonderful rubbish in our lives, long may it reign!
Of Interest
Pew, by Catherine Lacey, is a genius read. It has the sense of being a real contemporary American classic, with some really interesting and fresh new approaches. It’s about a person, gender/age/identity undisclosed, who arrives in the church of a small town in America (I do love small-town Americana). I really recommend giving this one a couple of afternoons of your time.
The story of this, the crumpled and only surviving group portrait of the three Brontë sisters that now hangs in London’s National Portrait Gallery, is fascinating.
This NY Times article, about a Yale professor who stood up for herself and the academic work that she believes in, in the face of patriarchal donor pressure. Good for her.
Kenji López-Alt makes eggs, and not surprisingly, they are perfect.
Are we all watching Squid Game, then? The frenzy around this show is crazy!
Oh, to be a second violinist in Mozart’s Jupiter Symphony!
I rarely spend much money on make-up, but I was totally sold by this Stila micro-tip eyeliner. The micro-tip means you can get a really gorgeous thin line, it goes on so smoothly, and stays put all day. I recommend if you fancy a little treat, especially as, with masks, our eyes are really the only things on our faces that we can decorate.
The benefits of journaling seem plausible and worthwhile, as laid out in this NY Times article.
This podcast from NPR’s Pop Culture Happy Hour, featuring interviews with Isabel Allende and Sandra Cisneros. I just finished ‘The House on Mango Street’ and thought it was genius, must read more Cisneros. Allende has been on my TBR for ages, and after listening to her speaking so passionately about women and life, I am very inspired to get reading her work. Where should I start?
Logan and I are celebrating 7 years together in a few days. 7 years??! All I will say is, we each know how the other eats when they are alone, and we wouldn’t have it any other way.
