Gen Z is all about aesthetics, and, bad news: my aesthetic must be flea market and emotional dysregulation. Because today I was considering ways to prove everyone wrong about, I don’t know, lots of things–and I walked into a flea market and felt safe, suddenly. Ah, yes, I guess I thought, I’m surrounded by dusty things in faded primary colors and old pop/rock is playing from somewhere, and now I’m safe.
I kind of think I could live in a flea market. I’d curl up under one of the tables they stack stuff on to sleep at night, and then wake up to the sound of elderly customers coming in to look for things that remind them of past days. I’d wander around looking at things like old pink phones from the ’60s and old CDs for bands I’ve only vaguely heard of. It’d be great. I’d find National Parks memorabilia and old, ideologically-messed-up books, and I’d stare at heavy film cameras for ages before running my fingers along the chromium and looking up quickly to be sure no one watched me interact with history.
This is bad news. This is bad news because flea market finds are not worshiped or fussed over, generally. They’re hidden in stacks or placed upon dusty tables to wait for a long time for the sun to shine on them. Because ‘flea market chic’ isn’t a style you see in magazines. Because obsessively looking for cool things isn’t something you can get a certification in. Because no one cares about your political opinions, scholarly interests, or artistic depths if the world is moving forward and you are moving steadily towards being discarded. No one cares about faded primary colors when the world moves towards louder, brighter.
I really, really, really want to stick it to the Man right now, but I’m also tired and the Man is probably who sells the vitaminwaters and gatorade zeroes, so, that’s it, that’s the show.
Does vitaminwater fit the ‘aesthetic?’ Answer: anything I want to fit this aesthetic fits this aesthetic because who needs a set aesthetic when you can’t even decide if you want to cry, change the world, or watch old Disney films and throw things? Right?
what am i even talking about?