She had been giving a surprisingly large amount of thought to the wet-tank top, that her partner’s baby sister had been wearing, contemplating whether or not she could still positively say that she was against brand-based consumerism.
It simply couldn’t be that good looking of a tank top:
It was white, a bit see-through and the font made her think of “brat” and how that tank top would probably do very well in neon green these days.
It wasn’t a new top.
Her partner’s younger sister had let her know, with a hint of surprise, that it was Kanye’s collection and to her own knowledge, it had been a while since Kanye had made a collection.
This piece of information made her think of two things:
1. Why does that make the top so attractive to me?
2. Why didn’t I know that it was Kanye’s collection? Does everybody know this? (all awhile she was feeling a hint of pride of now knowing this, manifesting her lack of buying into the world of celebrities, trends and brands)
2.b. She was certain her life would be a bit more fun if she knew what was going on in the world of celebrities, trends and brands. Not that she would condone all of these celebrities’ behaviors or self indulgence or high horse…-
She lost her train of thought as she boarded the subway. She knew she would be able to spend a good half hour reading, as she spotted a couple of empty seats on her right. Before she got a chance to claim one of them, a pair of beautiful, bejewelled boys swooped in front of her from the opposite side of the cart and occupied them. She was sure they hadn’t seen her make her way over there, as they were deep into conversation of something she thought to hear as “the tiny cupboard”. She froze mid-move as they sat down in front of her, and rapidly lifted her head an inch to make it look like she was looking at the train stops above the boys’ heads, so as to give her an excuse to be facing their direction in the first place.
Now that she had taken the position of someone who didn’t know how far anything was or when to get off, she might as well milk it for a bit, she thought, as to eavesdrop on the Gen Z’ conversation going on at her waist-height.
Yes, she thought, they’re definitely talking about a tiny cupboard, and her mind immediately went to Harry Potter living in the cupboard beneath the stairs in the first book.
Were these boys – or men – , these young teenagers, able to get as much enjoyment out of the books as she herself had, she wondered, studying the word “Kosciuszko” for the 300th time in her life. Or were the magic gone, now that the author had turned to be so cruel towards certain demographics (or, that’s to say: one demographic). She had often found Gen X’s stereotypical perception of Gen Z’s to be downright wrong – yes, they were sensitive and depressed and wore incredible outfits at most times, but she didn’t find them overly politically correct or the slightest bit annoying. She felt awestruck whenever she’d engage in conversation with someone 10 years younger than herself, which was maybe why, she reasoned now, she had loved the tank top on her sister-in-law so much. Everything that generation did, seemed to make her feel a tiny bit inferior but at the same time very inspired. She was, after all, technically part of the same generation, though when her friend had shared the coined expression “zillenials” with her a few months back, it had stricken a chord with her that she hadn’t since been able to ignore. She wasn’t like them. She had had the pleasure and privilege to grow up alongside Harry, Ron and Hermione, and even using this as a reference point made her cringe and turn around to face Williamsburg drifting by her, slower and slower as the train approached the Williamsburg bridge.
At 8:43 pm that same evening, she looked at her co-worker’s phone as the screen lit up behind the bar. It was an Instagram notification letting him know that tomorrow’s lineup at The Tiny Cupboard will be some of Brooklyn’s finest upcoming comedians including @alexkimedian, @kimberlydinaro and @constantlygus. She looked away from the phone and felt slightly indignant that it would probably take a lot of unfollowing to get her own algorithm to present her the same exclusivity. It made her surprisingly sad to realize that excluded was how she felt.
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