I’m not cool. It probably goes without saying, to be honest, but in case it just wasn’t clear enough, I’ve put it in pride of place at the very beginning here. And again: I@m not cool, in case you are a blog-reader who, for some reason, refuses to read the first sentence of posts, which if is the case, you might have missed some pretty important stuff.
… Imagine it:
“The world is going to end in three minutes unless you stand up now. I hope you’re all well.”
You have missed that vital piece of information, and are therefore fully responsible for the world’s distruction. …
What is cool? It doesn’t really have a definition, if you ask me. Cool just seems to me to be this unachievable, unrealistic state of being. It’s somehow playing the game of high school politics like a world champion, and achieving supreme rule by, somehow, winning the game which everybody else has lost.
If you’re cool, everything you do is unintentionally perfect: your clothes, actions and sentences have purpose and attitude. Suddenly, everyone wants to be your friend, to the point where you can actively reject an innocent offer of friendship so casually, the act will have been forgotten within the minute. No one would dare bully or pick on you; there are far too many people who would instantly jump to your defence at the blink of an eye, and even more who would follow their lead in hope of being associated with ‘the cool kid’.
If there’s all those benefits, being cool seems like a pretty good way to be, if you ask me. However, in my semi-pessimistic life, I always live by the rule that every good thing has it’s downfalls: the whole ‘every cloud has a silver lining’ line, reversed.
Being cool can’t be easy, really. Ensuring that you don’t slip up, either metaphorically or literally, whenever you’re with friends, or in a public place must, at least, be a challenge. Only wearing cool clothes, saying cool things, talking about cool TV shows and music…
That doesn’t, to me, sound like living. If anything, that sounds like living a lie, strictly following a list of rules stating what is acceptable to like, to say, to wear, to watch, to read, to do. I’m a strong believer in individuality and personality, and if this is true, being cool essentially blots out all individuality from a person, leaving them a clone of every other cool person across the country, and a close copy to every other cool kid around the world.
That leads me back to my question: what is cool? Is it just the personification of trends, combined with a bit of attitude and a surrender to social pressure? It would seem so.
Really, though, why is that combination responsible for so many popular teenagers across the globe? I can say, with a reasonable amount of confidence, that people become cool because others feel that they are the clone of the person that everyone is ought to be. Cool kids are usually quite stereotypical: they like certain music, look and dress a certain way, and speak using select examples of up-to-date slang. Cool kids are the people that society can hold up and say to us all: “see, they’re just like you, and if they can do it, why can’t you?”
I’m not cool. I like the wrong type of music; hardly watch any TV shows at all, let alone popular ones; I would happily go to the shopping centre in a snow leopard onesie; I find it easier to write and read in English, not slang; I don’t follow social trends or stereotypes. Maybe if I changed all of those things, I’d be cool, popular. But I’m not going to, because I don’t want to change me.
In the end, where does cool get you? What does being cool achieve? JK Rowling, Steve Jos, Adele – they didn’t get where they are today because they were cool in school; they worked hard and were passionate about their professions. Although the positives of being cool are extremely appealing, the negatives definitely outweigh them: I refuse to live a lie, by following rules that don’t reflect me as a person.
Walking on egg-shells – the act of making sure you don’t put a toe out of line for fear of falling – sounds to me what being cool is like. It’s tiptoeing around everything, desperate not to slip and fall off of these egg-shells, fearful of falling but tired of staying upright. Everyone has a personality and I wonder if sometimes, someone who is cool feels that they have to repress an element of their personality, to keep with the trends and expectations. Honestly, that thought actually makes me sad, because it makes me wonder if that is what our world has really come to: a lot of people living a lie. People holding themselves bak, not allowed to be who they want to be, say what they want to say or do what they want to do.
whoever you are, cool or not, popular or not: don’t actively try and be cool. Really, it’s not that attractive by the sounds of things and it’s not real 99% of the time. Just be you: like what you want, wear what you want, say what you want. That in itself is cool, if you ask me, and hundreds of thousands of others around the world. Having the confidence and freedom to be yourself, and not conform to pressure, expectations or rules is cool, and earns you respect. If people can’t see that, it’s theer loss, not yours, and you whould remember that.
To me, you’re all cool, because you’re all you, whether it’s on your blogs, in real life or both. each and every one of you is well, you, and that’s cool.
so, the message of this post. don’t actively seek to be cool. And never be ashamed to wear a snow leopard onesie in a shopping centre!