One Direction, Bieber: Not-so guilty pleasure
Published: Thursday, February 21, 2013
Updated: Thursday, February 21, 2013 01:02
I have a confession to make. Now, this isn’t something that people generally say in public, nor is it something that a lot of people will find favorable. That being said, it would be great if we could keep this between us. Okay – here goes nothing. I am a strong black woman who don’t need no man. Okay, that’s not the real secret.
I like One Direction; you know – the British boy band. Actually, I love them; and Justin Bieber. Call me a teenage girl if you want (I certainly throw like one), but I dance around singing to their music all the time.
Truthfully, I am not ashamed of this. I realize I’m not really in the majority in this particular viewpoint, but I don’t care. If you share this particular passion, you shouldn’t be ashamed either. We all have guilty pleasures!
Okay – let me back up just a minute. I guess the term guilty pleasure isn’t quite the phrase to use. See when you think about it, this wouldn’t quite be a guilty pleasure.
This phrase used to mean something quite different; an act or activity which would derive pleasure, but would most often make you feel guilty afterwards. Now, I don’t mean eating chocolate on a diet. A guilty pleasure would be going into the restroom at the local bar and snorting a line of cocaine (which I do not recommend). Sure it feels good for a bit, but you would feel really bad or guilty later.
Somehow this phrase has trickled down through the masses to common vernacular (I blame Entertainment Weekly). Sadly, this pains me. It disturbs me to know that we can take something so serious and turn it into something so trivial, though this does happen all the time.
Now, instead of having one or two actual guilty pleasures we attribute any small, unpopular interest as a guilty pleasure.
The fact that I know Harry Styles turned 19 Feb. 1, or knowing that Zayn Malik turned 20 Jan. 12 , or that Louis Tomlinson (my personal favorite) turned 21 Dec.24, 2013 doesn’t make me feel guilty. It does make me feel a little like a stalker, but that’s a totally different issue.
So, this shouldn’t be considered a guilty pleasure in the proper sense of the phrase. Before we start singing in the cafeteria about the status quo, though, we should think of a new term. Perhaps something like so-what-if-I-like-that pleasure – okay, so that’s a little long, but there must be something else.
Let’s reserve guilty pleasure for the more serious things in our life, not my borderline obsession for One Direction.