Navigating the terrain of adult entertainment (no, not that, perv!)
Yasmine Modaresi (she/her) // Crew Writer
Lera Kim (she/her) // Illustrator
A universal teenage experience seems to be a sudden slap in the face by reality and being seen as a weirdo by the world
In the past, the weirdo was the guy in your computer science class who filled the entire lecture with an odour of fermenting bean soup or the girl who, for some reason, collected prosthetic feet. But now, you’re 18 years old, a government-sanctioned adult, and you’re self-isolating at the height of Friday night, watching a two-hour documentary about the intelligence of slime molds. For me, this was peak entertainment, but the notifications were blowing up so profusely that my phone vibrated its way right to the counter’s edge, falling to the floor with a clunk. I picked it up and saw that my friends wanted me to leave the comfort of my home (the audacity) and spontaneously join them in a coming-of-age movie-type journey where, collectively, we all drink poison and jump around with a bunch of strangers while lasers flash and electronic beats reverberate through the pits of our stomachs.
That night, I was locked into the documentary, a rush of adrenaline overtaking me at the time-lapse of slime mold making its way through a maze replica of Tokyo. The idea of being perceived and engaging with hundreds of people wasn’t enticing, but I didn’t really have a choice. “If you’re not ready in 15 minutes, I’m gonna kidnap you,” read the text bubble from my girlfriend. She meant business and I know this for a fact, because I’d been forcefully stuffed in her car’s trunk before. I didn’t know what to do, but I knew that I had to shield myself from the looming potential of sensory overload and avoid a social anxiety-induced panic attack. I had plushies, slime, a litany of candy and UV protection sunglasses. All were wonderful additions to my battle equipment, but somehow still not enough.
I needed a second skin, something to shield me from being perceived, which was when I remembered my beloved inflatable dinosaur suit.
The environment around me would be foreign, invigorating and turbulent—as is the nature of the side quests of youth under the cover of night—and so, just like any good wizard, I had to arm myself with tools of magic, like my party regalia. While initially a bit overwhelming, that night set me on an upward trend of confidence in my ability to be in fast-paced social settings despite my proclivity for anxiety.
The first lesson of the night was that everyone else was far too busy astroprojecting to pay attention to me. I wore a gigantic inflatable dinosaur suit, and yet I blended in perfectly amongst the crowd.
Secondly, attire aside, prioritize comfort. Everyone else is, so you should too. Whether that entails rocking some UV protection sunglasses, carrying a large plushie over your shoulder or going with a big group of your safety people, do what you gotta do to get the perfect balance between comfort and excitement.
Finally, no dancing or groovy social skills are required. This is an environment where primitive communication methods are revived, the shadow of the psyche prevails and telepathic dancing in alternate dimensions is the norm. It’s a place where a status like ‘weirdo’ can work in your favour and through these many steps, you’ll find yourself wondering why you were worried in the first place.