Confessions of a Teenage Music Snob

Hey there, it's Lev, coming at you from the depths of my bedroom, surrounded by my collection of obscure posters and curated playlists. "But today, I have a confession to make. Brace yourselves, because it's a big one. Ready? Okay, here it goes... I'm pretentious. I'm a pretentious, music-snobbish, aesthetic-obsessed, downtown-girl wannabe. Phew, feels good to get that off my chest!

Now, don't get me wrong. I love my music taste. I love my clothes. I love my downtown girl aesthetic. I love being part of the Twee and other indie subcultures. But sometimes, I can't help but wonder, "Am I just being a snob?" and if they're more like a safety blanket. I mean, if you were to strip away my music and my aesthetics, what would be left? Would I be...nothing? A shell? A ghost?

I mean, I could try to expand my music taste. I could listen to the radio, buy teenage magazines, and swoon over at the sight of male celebs like the others without cringing. But then, I think about the lyrics of "Sensitive Artist" and I get a little scared.

"I am a sensitive artist. Nobody understands me because I am so deep."

I mean, I don't want to be that girl. The one who's so wrapped up in her own world that she can't connect with anyone else.

And here's another confession: I really, really don't like the new VSCO preppy aesthetic. It's like someone took a pastel-colored, glitter-infused, unicorn-themed hammer and smashed my retro-loving soul with it. But maybe, just maybe, if I could get over my aesthetic snobbery, I could invite the preppies over for tea. We could talk about...I don't know, whatever it is preppies talk about.

I could even try to get into k-pop. I mean, I don't really get it, but it seems to make people happy. And maybe then I could actually have a conversation with my classmates that doesn't involve me saying, "Errrm... who's that again?" every time they mention a celebrity.

But then, there's a part of me that wants to say, "Screw it! Fuck you, conformists! Fuck you with your K-pop, your idol culture, your sad beige fashion! Fuck me, I'm Twee and I love it!" I could wear my clothes and play my obscure music and just not care what anyone else thinks. I could tell everyone who doesn't get it to just...well, you know. But I don't have the guts to do that.

And then I think about the future. One day, I'll be a grandma, and there'll be TV programmes like "Throwback to the 20s!" Everyone else in my nursing home will be dancing to the tunes, while I'll be sitting in the corner, fidgeting with my fingers, because I missed out on the mainstream music and culture.

So here I am, stuck in this conundrum of conformity. I'm a pretentious teenager who's too scared to fully embrace her own uniqueness, but the idea of conforming gives me the ick. It's a bit of a pickle, isn't it?

But hey, at least I'll have my obscure indie bands and other stuff, right? And who knows, maybe by then, the things I like will be the new mainstream. Until then, I'll keep wrestling with my pretentiousness, and maybe, just maybe, I'll find a way to be true to myself without alienating everyone else. Wish me luck! Yours pretentiously, Lev