I get my omega-3s from Swedish Fish · 18 November 2009, 12:46

Something bothered me the other day, and it’s stayed on my mind, and I thought I would tell you about it.

I was walking down the street with some people and this woman with an awesome eccentric outfit came out of a store right in front of us – striped leggings, boxers over them with a geometric panda face printed on the ass, cropped tweed Sherlock Holmes coat. Immediately a few members of my party started talking about her – “hey, it’s the cat in the hat! is that a panda on her ass? is she homeless or something?” A bunch of older, conservatively dressed businessmen mocking a solo younger woman, out loud, in her presence. I was completely appalled, and in retrospect, I should’ve just busted out exactly the reason I was completely appalled: dude she is RIGHT IN FRONT OF US. You know she can hear you, right?

Instead my brain just started churning about conformity and judging women on appearances and in-groups and out-groups and enforcing societal bullshit with snark. I did say that I thought her outfit was awesome and that I would wear it all, which sort of shut them up – although I think, rather than making them think differently their behavior, it made them think differently about me. It made me think differently about them, that’s for sure – I don’t, alas, own panda-ass anything, but I’m not exactly wearing khakis every day. What do they say about me when I’m not around?

I wanted to run up to her and walk with her instead and say “sorry for my associates; just try to take comfort in the fact that their close-mindedness will eventually give them ulcers, even if they are all middle-aged white businessmen and thus the rulers of us all. Where did you get your smashing coat?”

So because I couldn’t say it in the words I wanted then, now I say to you, people with no tolerance for eccentricity: fuck you. Eccentric people made just about everything you’ve ever loved,1 everything that’s ever truly moved you, and if there was a Freaks Union, we’d refuse to sell you a lick more music, art, writing, movies, television, food or credibility until you – well, ever. You are boring and stunted and inimical to human possibility and the world as you rule it is morally and creatively bankrupt – and the funny thing is, you know it too: there’s a reason nobody has a midlife crisis and runs away from home to join management.2

And, dear lady of the sidewalk: shine on, you crazy diamond! We’re having a clothing swap at my house on Sunday and you are extra invited.

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1. except the Dave Matthews Band.
2. not to ruin my nice indignant ending or anything, but I feel I should disclaim: some of my favorite people are not at all eccentric, and some of them even went to business school. I’m not hating, except on the haters. I judge only the judgy. I request eyes only for eyes! Anyhow.

— Hannah Mae

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