Having spent the last half an hour looking over some chick's progression posts on Instagram, where she gabbled on about her numerous digs from flea markets and vintage shops to create her effortless, Bohemian, and mid century cool abode. I looked around at my apartment, staged to a fault, with every piece picked out with precision, down to the paperclips. Those supposedly spontaneous purchases I made? I've been on them for months, if not years. That flowers that are wilted with nonchalance? I probably saw it in a magazine. Nothing is left to chance, everything is a controlled variable. Then I looked at her posts some more, and heaved a heavy sigh.
Ever since I was young (where apparently most of my realizations occurred. Freud would've had a field day with me), I knew I was better at elevating, than improvising. Give me a prompt, and I can give you a story. Give me a case, and I will provide you with a solution. Give me a blank canvas, and...you'll surely get one back. This probably means that I am a very rigid person, though I'd like to think I'm more righteous instead. No matter how much I have been exposed to, I probably won't be the girl who'd gush over an ottoman she scored at a consignment shop for $20, while I have to pay ten times the amount for something similar. It probably wouldn't be made in the 19th century either, though that mattered less in the grand scheme of things. I simply don't have the eyes, nor the patience, to comb through thousands of seemingly unconnected designs in order to search for something that was "cool." Stability and staying classic suit me, thank you very much.
So what happens when you're quote unquote, cool? You throw money at it, and hope that something sticks. Whoever says money can't buy you happiness simply isn't spending them correctly. Therefore, it should come as no surprises that I won't deny the importance of financial stability, it's paramount; and I won't apologize for my affinity to materialistic goods.
You can say taking a walk can be quite enjoyable. Yes, but where are you taking the walk from? A walk by the Seine is beautiful, but you have to take the plane to get there first. Taking a walk in your neighborhood is good and all, but you have to be able to have a place to live first. Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs dictates quite clearly the pivotal role of shelter. You can argue your significant other's smile brings enough happiness, but let's face it: you need a special someone first.
How do you compete with innovators?
How do you compete with effortless cool?
How do you compete with that case of je ne sais quoi?
How do you compete with that?
The answer is, you can't.
Weirdly, even knowing my shortcomings, and my strengths, I still envy the people who are effortlessly cool. Sure, I can't see what's behind the curtain, but that's the thing about grass being greener on the other side: it doesn't need to be experienced.
The only thing I can do is to live passionately. With every uneven brushstroke, every passing view. One day, I will accept that being me is enough.
One day.
