Stop Liking That Stuff, It’s My Stuff
Do you ever feel excitement when something you love and have always craved more of is suddenly popular, combined with low-level rage that everybody is wearing or making or talking about your thing?
This unnamed emotion is what drives people to insist loudly and endlessly that they actually were into that band before it was cool to be into that band.
The “bands” I was into before everybody else include ponchos, clogs, and dioramas. Actually miniatures of any kind.
I gleefully buy clog boots, clogs in the whole taupe spectrum, winter clogs, and my heart practically bursts with joy at every new diorama show, club, and joke, but hey — stop liking that stuff! All the tiny things belong to me.
It’s small and irrational, I know. And it’s unfair to feel that away about authors, artists, or actual bands, at least if they are alive. Because if they’re alive, you wish them success. As kids we guarded our dorkier hobbies and interests so as not to be made fun of, so it isn’t faaaiiirrr.
Obviously, I looked to see if there is a German word for this. Maybe I’ll make one.