We’ve all heard that sex sells. I remember hearing the term for the first time on National Public Radio around the age of seven and not understanding it. Even now, nine years later, its meaning escapes me. I pass by the same billboards featuring blown-up cutouts of plastic blondes and buff men, both the color of a carrot cake, every day; I simply refuse to call the number 1(800)-R-U-HAIRY. To me, the idea that sex sells is a dead figment of the 20th century that’s lost its touch.
“Gangnam Style” by Psy, a Korean pop star gaining worldwide attention for his satirical music video, features a middle-aged Asian man in strange places. Scenes like that of a middle-aged man in floral shorts that hit above the knee, thrusting his hips while Psy lies down between his legs, aren’t subtle, but their deliberately unsexy appeal has me replaying them at least five times in one sitting.
As a previous fan of K-pop, I was glad that Psy gained international recognition for South Korea and, in turn, disappointed when I came across snarky comments from fans of other K-pop groups about how he wasn’t attractive and slim like their favorite “oppas”. To me, these statements make no sense because for any solo artist or idol group, to increase the fan base of K-pop is a big step to worldwide approval of the genre.
I won’t be the first to admit this, but being a K-pop fan is probably the stupidest teenage phase that I will ever undergo. I stay up, on average, until 4:00 a.m.- not to do homework, but to access another crazed K-pop fan’s Tumblr and let my idol feels (a Tumblr term to describe a sudden wave of emotions) run wild. My nights on Tumblr consist of stank faces at girl groups whom I secretly admire, fangirling that involves major flailing motions and laughing alone at obscurely early hours of the morning at any and all memes worthy.
Being a K-pop fan is a lifestyle. I’ll know if an idol is appearing on a new variety show or is being hospitalized before news websites know through the power of Tumblr. And at this point of the insanity, I’m so used to it that only getting an hour of sleep doesn’t even faze me anymore. I’m still just as excited as I am when I normally get sleep- maybe even more so because I know that when I get home I get to do it all over again.
