I’m a basic white girl. That’s how culture would define me. I wear Uggs with leggings during the winter and Chacos with Nike shorts during the summer. I thoroughly enjoy artsy Instagram pictures and Starbucks treats. The list goes on… but the point is, according to the intellectual monopoly of Urban Dictionary http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=basic+white+girl I follow a large portion of criteria to be a “basic white girl.”
The thing is, I don’t know why that has such an awful connotation. Unlike the rest of the country, I’m not offended. This vulgar definition doesn’t offend me or shame me the way people seem to think I should be, because yoga pants are comfortable and coffee shops make my soul happy. But I am confused by the fact that many think I should be ashamed to represent this image.
My Uggs have been keeping my feet warm for almost three frigid Indiana winters now. They have lasted me through snow, and cold, and saved my toes from countless cases of frost bite.
My Chacos take over in the summer, and those shoes have led me into countless adventures. For four summers now they have been on my feet as I’ve saved lives as a lifeguard, and leapt freely off a bluff into the Tennessee River. They’ve helped me climb rock walls and hike Alabama trails.
My “basic white girl” boots and sandals are more than just a pair of (questionably) overpriced shoes to me, but they are a foundation of strength, of comfort, and of adventure. I’ll never be ashamed of the soles to my soul no matter how much originality people attempt to remove from my being because of them.
By the way… what’s it to ya?
You may disagree, but I see Instagram as a wonderful mean for beautiful expression. I have seen some incredible pictures, pure works of art, that people have captured with the simple lens of an iphone. I appreciate that. I appreciate the world they saw, and the way they saw it, and the fact that they want to share it with me. If that makes me basic, so be it, because there is nothing basic about some of the beauty in both pictures and words that people I know can influence me with on a day-to-day basis, through the medium of, yes… Instagram.
I like beautiful things, and the people I follow post beautiful things. Maybe you’re following the wrong people.
I’ve been a proud Starbucks drinker for quite a few years now. I have no problem admitting that the simple Pikes Place Brew, that many coffee snobs dub as “sub-par” has gotten me through a lot. I have studied for multiple exams and written countless papers with the caffeinated encouragement of that coffee with just a little cream and sugar. I have built relationships, maintained relationships, saved relationships and enjoyed relationships over a steaming (or iced in the summer time) cup of it. It kept me alert on the eight-hour travel home from school more times now than I can count. It joined me on the drives to my first “big girl” internship, and helped perk me up so that I could make a good impression. It has revealed to me a million ways that my parent’s could have, and possibly should have, spelled my name, with a little help from the kind workers of the establishment.
Starbucks is a treat, a reward, and a motivation. I see nothing wrong with the enjoyment of such a joy… besides, what’s it to ya?
The things I enjoy have never hindered me or anyone else. I am ambitious, I am competitive, I am strong, and most importantly, I am Unique. A pair of shoes doesn’t change that and a hot beverage doesn’t change that. I don’t lose individuality or originality by being a “basic white girl,” no matter how culture attempts to group me, and I’m not about to give up things that I genuinely enjoy no matter how much culture attempts to shame me for it.
I’m uniquely basic… What’s it to ya?