These are the top 5 things I am most ashamed to love, but love so hard anyway
5. McDonald’s Berry Smoothies- I once had two of these in a Texas airport. They were THAT good. I like to convince myself they are healthy, too (ed. They are 210 calories…guess they aren’t that healthy). On the upside: they are much less expensive than the typical, pretentious $6 Cantabridgian smoothie.
4. Target line of Anna Sui Gossip Girl clothing- I fought a lady to get my hand on a sparkly Blair dress at Target. Blair is my favorite! I love her headbands and kilts! I know that I am a good twelve years older than the characters in the show, but if I want to wear sparkly boho Anna Sui, I will wear it without shame and pick through the Juniors racks in a hideous fluorescent building with pride. Downside: I might be seen wearing the same outfits as one of my students.
3. Sookie Stackhouse novels- these novels feature lines like this: “What kind of weretiger are you?” or “Crystal can never birth a full panther”
Yet they are so fun! I love reading the unnecessary—yet strangely fascinating–details the about all the sun chairs and undies and Disney character t-shirts that Sookie gets on clearance at Walmart. I have determined I love them because they make me nostalgically yearn for the serial books of my youth. The Sookie Stackhouse novels are a natural outlet for women in their late twenties who have grown up in Sweet Valley, California and Stonybrook, Connecticut and who long to return to familiar literary waters. I love that Charlaine Harris goes full-on Babysitter’s Club and describes all of Sookie’s outfits and feels the need to include the backstory of Bubba in Every. Installment. Of. The. Series.
2. Teen Mom– I wept- WEPT–profusely on the elliptical machine when Caitlin and Tyler put their baby up for adoption. I will stare, plant-like, at the television for hours if MTV airs a Teen Mom marathon, finally triumphing over my heretofore unchallenged affection for Top Model and Real Housewives marathons on Bravo.
1. Katy Perry-This is truly embarrassing, but I secretly love Katy Perry. I wasn’t on her jiggly bandwagon when One of the Boys dropped, but after listening to “California Gurls” about 2500 times this summer, it soaked into me like some sort of peppermint and fructose coated crack. The takeover was so visceral that my friend Jen and I danced around my kitchen for two hours to the video on repeat while ostensibly “crafting.” I believe Katy Perry represents my desire to shoot rivulets of whipped cream out of cannons on my amble bosom—an experience that would be incomplete without Snoop Dogg. Even my mom likes Katy Perry and leaves me detailed voicemails about how she is glad that “that nice girl found such a funny husband” (??!!). I think that this universal appeal, rather than boob cannons, is Perry’s secret weapon. This transparency and likeability differentiates her from Britney, Xtina, and Gaga, who can all be a bit predatory at times, or who can try too hard to take themselves too seriously. Katy Perry knows she’s all about manufactured pop, lots of makeup, boobs, and fun and she refuses to apologize for that. She’s a lady who knows who she is and I can appreciate her winking sense of self-knowledge (plus her CD is doctored to smell like cotton candy, making it hard to resist the urge to sniff it and slam it up to my face every time I go to Starbucks).