Adolescent Myopia

Who did you idolize as a teenager? Did you go crazy for the Beatles? Ga-ga over Duran Duran? In love with Justin Bieber? Did you think Elvis was the livin’ end?

Source: Teen Age Idol

It is excruciatingly hard to admit this, but the closest teenager-me have come to idolize someone was when I was so into this particular member of a K-pop girl group (whom I decided not to name), simply because I think the way she dresses is cool; basically it’s easy to pick her out from the crowd of monotonous cutesy acts and exterior, which is actually the main selling point of the other groups and idols in the industry.

Allow me a moment to cringe for the apparent tastelessness of my teen self and how much I was a loser as I was proud to think I have chosen the non-mainstream, while the word “BASIC” is written in capitals on my forehead. Ugh.

In my defense, I was considerably perceptive enough to see her as nothing but an image created by the company she was in. I mean, at least I wasn’t blinded with her persona on stage or on reality shows that I took them as her traits of personality and how she is in real life. But I still look forward to watching them as she would be there, rocking edgy hairstyles and clothing which I might not be able to pull off in real life. It was partly some sort of gratification through others, if I may.

The other half of the reason was that, as I guess any teenager would, I, too, experienced a certain level of consciousness about my own appearance by that time. I liked her because she projects the way I would like to dress myself, while previously I had never care even a teeny tiny shit on however other female idols or celebs style themselves. Of course, it didn’t go all too well as illustrated from my hair fail story. But to some extent, teenage me found comfort in her against all those peer pressure to look up to the seemingly only way for girls to be considered at least “dressing properly”.

I am so glad that phase is over. It was too exhausting; both self-debating too much about fitting in and feeling too required to achieve a certain look. Oh, and it’s also a little too much failing all attempts to lose weight because I thought that is the only way I can totally pull of her style.

Like some, my fascination eventually also faded out into indifference. Mostly because I reached that moment of epiphany saying, “Oh fuck it, you do you, I do me or whatever that shit is”. Honestly, I don’t remember exactly how or when I got to that point, but probably  because I had other trivial matters I’d rather attend to; basically me developing new interests that don’t necessarily involve thinking about how I look or anything too much to do with the issue of identity.

Perhaps I just turned to a full-fledged skepticist, especially on the question of individuality or humanity as a whole. Uniqueness suddenly appears overrated.