Smells like Teen Fame

The strangers, we fear the most. Dark avatars outside ourselves, spiced to life through stories. Stories whose edges are sharpened against their neighbours each day, into pointed quartz starlets. And they gleam and blaze as the light hits them at different angles but they only ever reflect and we look and look because it looks so wondrous. Wondrous to be so mellifluously crafted.

The 80s gave rise to Basquiat and George Michael. Quartz starlets of youth culture, subculture. Creating craftware for Subversion. Now celebrities push products made by somebody else like gooey whipped eye creams and utilitarian coffee cups. Wares that give you younger skin and a faster heart. All culture is youth culture now even if you’re old and your jowls started sagging ten birthdays ago, but that can be fixed too if you’ve got the money. Young and famous.

Consumer dreams fuelling Instagram dreams, and in reverse too. Because money is power. Money liberates, sets you free. Upend the status quo with money. Subvert injustices just with latent money in your bank account and we must have purchasing power in our hands. Or we’re voiceless. Some say there’s enough to go around but I need it first to right the wrongs. On closer inspection though 80’s starlets wanted fame and fortune. though. Your fame isn’t about the money is it though.

If we’re famous everyone’s a stranger. But it’s OK cause they’re all looking at you.

 

 

 

 

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