Saturday night I found myself perched on a bench in the sweaty basement of Saint Ex. The DJ was a dead ringer for Biggie Smalls, and he was jamming out all night to 90s R&B and hip-hop. He played Trick Daddy’s “Dro in da Wind,” followed by Mary J. Blige’s “Family Affair,” followed by a little Outkast until my muted head-bops had escalated into full-on, unabashed grooving.
When I could no longer contain my enthusiasm for these old-school tunes, I boogied over to the DJ booth to start making requests. Biggie was wearing headphones and juggling records, and I could barely see over the turntables, so it took him a minute to notice me. When he finally did make eye contact for a hot second, I squeezed in a request:
He completely ignored me. So I decided to press on.
Hey you got any BoyzIIMen? How about Bel Biv DeVoe?
I know he heard me, but instead of acknowledging my requests he shot a glance at the large man standing next to him (lover? pimp? parole officer?), who then looked at me with a mixture of boredom and disappointment.
I slumped back over to my seat. Apparently there’s an obvious difference between “cool” and “uncool” 90’s tunes, and my taste crossed the line.
I used to spend way too much time being embarrassed about my “guilty pleasures.” If a music guru were to borrow my iPod for a run, I would quickly delete all the Mariah Carey, most of the country songs, and definitely that heinous Sting song about desert roses (…”I dream of raaain, eleyele”… yea, I secretly love it).
But guess what folks– I’m 26, and I’ve decided to stop caring. Why should we feel “guilty” about our pleasures? Who decided that Biggie was cool and that Boyz II Men wasn’t, and why should everyone subscribe to that judgment? What’s wrong with reading a tabloid mag and a Faulkner novel on the same plane ride?
The only way to take the “guilt” out of “guilty pleasures” is to own up to them, like a sinner to a priest. So here they are, my guiltiest of pleasures in no particular order:
Dancing with the Stars— that’s right folks, I can’t get enough of that show. The sparkly outfits, the choreographed routines, the burgeoning pro/celebrity relationships, they all light my fire.
Mariah Carey and Boyz II Men, the early stuff. Pure euphoria.
People and USWeekly magazines– I especially enjoy the pictures of celebrity toddlers. What are you gonna do about it?
“The Trouble With Love Is,” That Kelly Clarkson song from Love Actually. Boom.
Eat, Pray, Love— Being a literature major, this one was especially difficult to admit. It’s as fun to read as it is completely uncool.
Country music from the 90’s, mainly George Strait, Garth Brooks and Alan Jackson. Listening to these artists is acceptable in Louisiana, but apparently not elsewhere. Call someone who cares.
Ace of Base— I don’t know if they count because everyone loves them, but I especially love them.
…and finally (gulp)….
InStyle Weddings— Ouch! No I’m not getting married any time soon, but yes, I love looking at the pretty flower arrangements and… wait what? Someone opted for cupcakes instead of a traditional wedding cake?! My mind has officially been blown!
Wow, I feel like a new person. Can anyone top this? I know someone here watches Celebrity Fit Club or listens to Barbara Streisand on the DL… out with it!