Why I Hate “Cool”

 

I stood next to an ex-boyfriend of mine and stared at a friend of ours. She walked around an open restaurant, stopping to pick up an empty cup and talk to customers. She wore green shorts over gold lame leggings, a baggy yellow tank top over a gray sports bra. She probably hadn’t showered in a few days, and knowing her, I could imagine what she smelled like. I looked up at my ex and he turned his face to me. “She is so cool!” he said.

This was not the first time I realized that I think “cool” is stupid, but it was probably the most profound. I twitched my head as he said it, creating my own sense of deja vu- a misstep between the neurons firing in my brain. “What?” I asked him.

“She looks amazing” he replied, his eyes shining with envy.

I had to admit, this girl had more confidence than a charging rhino. She could have walked up to the president in a dirty t-shirt and never had a second thought, but part of me rebelled against what I was hearing.

“She doesn’t look cool,” I said. “She looks stupid. She is wearing green shorts over gold tights and it looks ridiculous.”

“No way. She looks awesome.”

I realized I was doing the equivalent of trying to convince a raccoon that the piece of tin foil he held so dearly was worthless. I gave up.

So here’s my dilemna. I understand that the ability to wear anything and pull it off effortlessly is special. I also appreciate style. But where is the line between style and poor taste? How do we know the difference between someone who’s edgy and someone who’s oblivious?

The truth is it’s irrelevant. Because there’s NO COOL. If a person wants to wear a beanie  and a tutu everyday of their life- Who cares? It doesn’t make them better or worse than me. It just makes them a person in a beanie and a tutu.

And if a person likes to listen to pop music, watch bad action flicks and television shows, it doesn’t mean they are not worthwhile. People can like whatever they like and embracing that they are who they are is all part of the game of life.

Just a short time ago, I used to be very concerned with being in the “know.” I wanted to be the first to find cool bands, to see cool movies, to spot cool artists. But I realized that the effort it takes for me to find those things is an effort I could be using to do those things. What if, rather than trying to be cool, we re-direct that effort towards being better- better people, better artists, better lovers. My aunt once told me that to be a master of something, you must work on it for 10,000 hours. So in order to be a master of cool, you have to work on being cool for years and years, and by then end of that time, you will undoubtedly not be cool because part of coolness is not trying.

Basically, it’s a Catch 22. So stop caring. Decide what you like and what you don’t like, but there’s no need to judge. Except for cool people. You can tell them they suck. Because if they really are cool, they won’t care what you think.