I’m currently sitting in my house wearing a tube top, sweatpants, and a weird metal crown/ headband thing made out of magnets. I also spray tanned myself to death this morning and plan on doing it again later today. I want to go to the gym. I plan on doing laundry.
I have been watching Jersey Shore.
Unbelievably, even though the show has graced American screens for over two years, I hadn’t seen it until earlier this week. This may seem impossible, but bare in mind: I’ve been in Asia, where the concept of an orange gorilla would be either a terrorist threat or an anime character, not an object of lust. Although I was peripherally aware of the cast and their intoxicated antics, I hadn’t seen the show. Until now.
For reasons of personal pride, I’m not going to disclose exactly how much Jersey Shore I’ve watched over the past week. A lot. Between dog walks and fruitless job searching I’ve squeezed in just enough time with the strangely endearing crew to have begun appropriating their aesthetic. How terrifying is that?
This isn’t the first time I’ve been susceptible to fashion osmosis, of course. I was in Asia for 2 years and when I got home I looked at the sparkly, bedazzled, highly graphic t-shirts I had acquired and realized there was no way in hell I could get away with them this side of the Pacific.
When I started studying at U of R, or The World’s Preppiest University, I enthusiastically embraced an influx of collared shirts and ribbon belts.
It makes sense to adapt ones clothing to one’s situation, especially when you’re trying to assimilate to or be included in a new culture or situation. But why, WHY, am I currently under the spell of a different Situation? There is nothing enviable or appealing about over the top trucker hats or almost-exposed nipples. I have never in my life aspired to smoosh with a juicehead.
But there’s something so enthusiastically cavalier about the cast’s communal behavior that I find myself embracing their fashion choices in an attempt to bring some of that carefree joviality into my own life. I’m not down the shore drinking my face off right now, but damn do I wish I were. And I can’t roll around on the floor in a pile of similarly minded housemates, cause mine are currently scattered across the globe. But I can put on a sparkly tank top, drink a beer, and bear witness to the gleeful frivolity of some nutty individuals, who are actually pretty fun to hang out with.
At least, that is, until I replace my current Situation with a better one.
