As we have discussed before, I am weird. What I have not mentioned, however, is how very much I hate having my weirdness fetishized. Obviously I don’t want anyone to tell me, “Ewww, you’re so weird,” but I’m not any keener on the men who react to me with, “OH MAAAH GAAAH I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU LIKE ALL OF THESE NERDY THINGS! Those are the exact same nerdy things that I like! YOU ARE THE ZOOEY DESCHANEL-ESQUE QUIRKY GIRL OF MY DREAMS! Wait right here while I go carve you a pedestal out of MY OWN FLESH.” It makes me feel like a damn zoo animal, albeit one of the more exotic zoo animals. Maybe a lemur or something.
Nothing frustrates me more than constantly being told, “You’re so different from all those other girls.” Umm, I know. That whole “different” thing is why I have so much trouble making friends and connecting with my family. It’s not sexy. It’s frustrating and isolating. It’s not all fun and constant Lord of the Rings references up in this here abby normal brain, you know.
Also, I’m really not all that unique. Come on, son. We both know that you meet dozens of girls just like me every day. The only difference is that they’re not blonde 20-year-olds.
Because I do not like to advertise my strangeness, I tend to shun weirdness in my aesthetic preferences. (The one exception? My Pikachu hat. I wish I knew how to quit you, Pikachu.) My day-to-day fashion choices are calculated to be indistinguishable from every other East Coast sorority girl, right down to the Uggs. No rompers or whatever ironically hideous thing the kids at Urban Outfitters are wearing these days. My worst nightmare involves having to wear something insane, like an Alexander McQueen. I loathe abstractness. I can’t stand surrealist art, avant-garde writing, or incomprehensible “visionary” films.
Finally, I don’t wear weird perfumes. By “weird”, I mean perfumes that smell like gasoline, sulfur, tar, sawdust, paper, peanut butter. I can certainly appreciate them, but you will never catch me wearing one. The weirdest perfume I ever owned was Bulgari Black, and I ended up returning it almost immediately because I just didn’t feel comfortable in it. Just as I prefer Renoir to Picasso, I am drawn to perfumes that are attractive in an uncomplicated way. I don’t want to be challenged by a damn perfume. Isn’t life hard enough already?
Do you wear weird perfumes? Which ones do you wear, and why do you wear them?