On Our Way To Crazy

Last night I finished Pledged: The Secret Lives of Sororities by Alexandra Robbins. Aaron gave me a hard time for reading it, and I have to say that the robotic blond girls on the cover didn’t help my case. But it was a mostly entertaining read, although I could have done with out the preachy ending.

I didn’t give the book much thought – I was never in a sorority, but I was curious as to the inner workings of groups like that. But then the other night a commercial came on for a new movie came on. I wasn’t paying much attention until I heard the words, “From the makers of Bring It On, comes…” Bring It On! I love that movie! My interest was peaked. A movie about gymnasts? I told Aaron I would definitely be seeing that. (He told me that was something I would be doing ALONE.) Then he asked me why I was so interested.

And… I don’t know, really. I thought about rushing when I was at North Texas, but I’m glad I didn’t. I’m not a sorority kind of girl, and my life would be so much different now if I’d chosen that route. I was never a cheerleader (although I did try out in 7th grade. It was not pretty.), and I never had a chance at gymnastics. The balance beam and I did not get along.

So why the interest in ‘the other side’? Why the fascination with those girls, the ones with the perfect hair and the perfect boyfriends and the expensive clothes? Do we want to be them? Maybe. Maybe we just want a glimpse at what the ‘good life’ entails. An idea of how it might be. A picture of a different world. There’s something exciting about a life of privilege. Or, at least, reading about one.

I don’t think I want to be those girls. I don’t think I could keep up with the lifestyle, and I’m certainly not fabulous enough. But I think there’s a strange fascination with the upper crust… a life so unfathomable that we can’t help but be curious. Something about the illusion of having it all is intriguing. We want what we can’t have, or in this case, to be who we can’t be. In my head I know I should be all about treasures in heaven and blah blah blah. But sometimes I think I would like to drop $700 on a Marc Jacobs bag without having to even think twice about it.

Part of the allure, I think, is the sense of belonging. The ability to walk into a room and own it, to feel confidence instead of fear and insecurity. To be the one people are looking at instead of the one doing the watching. To be more concerned with what you think of people than what they will think of you. Those are the pieces of the lifestyle I would like to have.

I don’t really want that life, with the dressy and the fancy and the money. I don’t. But I do want to read about and live vicariously, just every now and then.