By Shivansh Kelkar
“Where are your pants from?”
I stare at the story reply that one of my mutuals on Instagram sends me. Naturally, I start to wonder whether they have any shame or not. Finding fashion sense is something that is limited to the individual, and not something meant to be discussed. How else am I supposed to preserve my mystique, if I reveal myself to those who I consider myself online friends with?
They say imitation is one of the most sincere forms of flattery, but I beg to differ. In a world surrounded by trends that come and go every few weeks, we yearn to cling on to something that’s unique to us—before those corny people on the internet come and ruin it, whether fashion, viewpoints, or music. Consider EsDeeKid, one of the “tuffest” rappers on the scene. Me, along with many others, faked screenshots of his Spotify profile when it had under a hundred thousand monthly listeners to prove our real worship of his music. EsDeeKid is a scouse rapper, with a style not really prevalent in America—which is exactly what drew an American audience to him. If we were playing his music and someone asked who it was, we’d just say it was part of the British underground rap scene, with no further specification, also known as gatekeeping; over my dead body was that listener count increasing by a digit. The ego boost we get from saying that is worth all the perceived pretentiousness.
Another facet with very high potential of gatekeeping is views that we post online. I can’t count the amount of times I stumble across a breathtaking view on my social media feed, and instead of answering where it’s located or what it even is, the creator stays silent. Thousands and thousands of likes, but still shrouded in mystery. The person who uploaded it stays underground, stays niche, stays gatekeeping, prevents LARPing, and stays *insert another internet buzzword here*.
It’s perfect. I hate that I can’t do that. But I can only scrounge up a measly few replies to my story asking, “wya?” But sometimes, my morality can’t handle lying to them, so I take the high road and just not respond. After all, the things I like are only exclusive to me, and me alone.
And so, I take another gander at the persona asking me where my pants are from in a really cool outfit I posted myself in. I then stalk my own Instagram profile again, just to see how niche I portray myself as being.
I’m exactly who I think I am, and others can’t be me no matter how hard they try. And so, I respond “The store I got them from burned down, so sorry!”
Man it feels great being cool.
Welcome to The Shield‘s annual satire section. Writers use satire to improve a problem in society. Sometimes readers misunderstand the satire as they do not recognize the hyperbole, irony, rhetorical questions, sarcasm, and understatements. Readers may mistake the satirical solution for the actual solution that the writer proposes. The ideas in these satire stories do not necessarily represent the opinions of The Shield or Westmont. If one is confused about satire, please contact a friendly neighborhood English teacher.