Caity Healy | Managing Editor
October is here, fall has officially begun, and with it, the celebrations and festivities that often come with it. Pumpkin spice is back in rotation at most coffee shops, those little Pillsbury sugar cookies with the ghosts and pumpkins poorly printed on them are back in stores — though, from my experience, they sell out in like, two seconds… so get ‘em while you can — and Halloween decor is making its appearance. And, of course, the tweets and memes about “basic b*****s” are making themselves comfy on our social media feeds once again.
Look, I get it. A single leaf falls and suddenly these “basic witches” (I changed the word so I don’t have to keep using asterisks, but you know what I mean) seemingly show up out of nowhere, just crawling out of the sewers like they’re Pennywise or something. A person steps on a perfectly crunchy leaf and the next thing you know they’re wearing a sweater that says something like “pumpkin spice and everything nice” written in Rae Dunn font and probably covered in glitter. Before you know it, the basic witch invasion has begun. And it must be so incredibly hard to see several people post about Starbucks’s new pumpkin spice cold brew and NOT say anything at all. So, so hard. But here’s an idea: just… actually try not to?
It feels like we’ve come to a point where we just can’t let people enjoy the things they like. So someone chooses to put their Halloween decorations up before the official first day of fall (it’s me, I’m that someone), is that hurting anyone? Unless they’re putting those decorations up in your space, then you don’t really have a right to say anything at all.
So someone chooses to literally search for when pumpkin spice is back in rotation at their local Starbucks so they can order their drink the first day it’s back (as you can probably guess, it’s me, I’m still talking about myself), does that have any effect on you whatsoever? If someone can genuinely tell me a way that it is creating a negative impact, short of buying into the commercial schemes that most of us are still guilty of buying into in some way or another, then I’d genuinely like to know. Until then, what right do you have to make people feel bad about it? Because, while I do understand that it is a joke, I definitely still feel a little self conscious when I go to The Press and, under my breath, tell the barista that I want a grande PSL (if you abbreviate it, people in line behind you might not know what you mean. Pro tip).
To be clear, I’m not advocating for the end of all criticism of things we consume. Everyone is entitled to their opinion. We should be critical of our consumption, and it’s definitely okay to not like something or actively want to partake in it. But the difference between that constructive critical mindset and what is actually happening is that the former would involve a conversation about how we as a society can be better and would respectfully assert your opinion, and the latter is people recycling the same jokes, usually aimed at judging women, that truly just are not funny.
We see this trend all the time. “You’re playing Christmas music before we even sat down for our totally unproblematic American holiday of Thanksgiving?! How dare you!” The non-existent PNW snow melts and spring arrives.“You’re actually wearing shorts when it’s barely above 60 degrees outside?! Ridiculous!” Or, of course, “You like Nirvana? Lol you probably just like their logo — name every single song on every album ever made. By Nirvana and every other band, too, while you’re at it. Fake fan.”
All jokes aside, I really think everyone should make a conscious effort to just try and let people enjoy the little things. Life isn’t easy. I don’t know about everyone else, but college has been nothing short of a struggle for me. So if a festive beverage or a spooky shirt, or an occasional trip to Target’s dollar section for a pair of pumpkin-covered socks makes me feel a little better, just let me have it. Let the basic witch in me live. Because in the end, it’s not hurting anyone… except maybe my bank account. But we don’t have to talk about that.
Contact the author at chealy16@wou.edu
Photo by Caity Healy
