Zigazig ah

There is some point in our lives, perhaps college but maybe as early as high school, at which our presupposed level of maturity no longer allows us to enjoy such frivolities. It’s hard once we’ve reached that indefinite but entirely present point to admit to and share these indulgences. Sure, we still can — and do — partake in these enjoyments, but it’s always qualified. We acknowledge our meaningless “guilty pleasures,” but we say we’re guilty for having them, and we claim to act with “no shame” that we’re “sorry we’re not sorry;” but both imply that we should be shameful; we should be sorry.

I think we ought to drop the penitent facade. We work our asses off. If we want to kick back for an hour and catch up on “Millionaire Matchmaker,” there should be nothing stopping us — and further, we should have no qualms about telling others.

One of the things I’ve always loved most about Princeton is the way in which conversations here can flow so smoothly from a discussion of presidential hopefuls and political climate to Paris Hilton’s foray into pop music. On the whole, I think we strike the balance nicely with friends at our dinner tables or over late meal. But throw us in front of our less intimate acquaintances, parents or a general public, and we lose that ease and comfort with our decisions. Through no fault of our own, we feel that we — as students or as adults — ought not to enjoy the less impressive examples of pop culture, television or movies.

I think it’s something that can and will change, as our generation becomes the judgers. We see the value in including pop culture in our ideas of “well-rounded” and cultural awareness. We compose Twitter feeds with equal representation by AP news sources, gossip sources, politicians, celebrities and humorists. We’ve turned our observances of the “lowbrow” into an act of study, keeping ourselves up to date and informed on pop culture in order to be the modern “Renaissance Man.” We browse Gawker with a sort of formulaic focus, meant to glean the information we’ll need to drop dinnertime references to the day’s top stories. Staying up to date, having fluency with the latest Top 40 names and an understanding of what’s going on in the realm of all things pop can be as useful as knowing what was said in the State of the Union.

There was one morning, over the summer, I was at my desk at my downtown Manhattan financial advising firm. One of the men who worked in the office poked his head in and asked me to drop by his desk when I had time; he had something he thought I’d be the best person to address. After hurrying through the project I was working on, I somewhat anxiously made my way to his desk. I had yet to work with him and wasn’t totally sure I had time that week to begin another task. “Hey, Brian, I finished the bond book. What did you need from me?” I managed in my best I-know-what-I’m-doing voice. “How do you spell bougie?” he asked. I gave him the spelling, citing Ke$ha and explaining which song of hers had recently brought the word back into popular diction. He was, I think genuinely, impressed, and our office dynamic was much improved by the interaction.

Sure, one might hope to leave workplace impressions stemming from the quality of work contributed, but having broken the ice with something trivial made the interactions that followed easier. I’m a firm believer in trashy TV, Cosmo magazine and all things pop culture. They enrich our lives in a stress-free, easy-to-access way. We all ought to allow ourselves an unapologetic enjoyment of it all. As my Spice muses say, “people of the world, spice up your life.”

Lily Alberts is an economics major from Nashville, Tenn. She can be reached at lalberts@princeton.edu.