Who says?

The year is 2011. You were picked up from school, and "Who Says" is playing on the radio, the song that permanently altered all our central nervous systems. Tumblr was at its Age of Renaissance, YouTube was pumping out the homemade creatives, and Instagram was proudly serving its grid. It was the time when modes of self expression were at their peak, and the scene of personally curated media began to emerge. Of course, "the gurus," the trend setters or the guiders, were also making their grand entrance (in this age of social media, the dynamic these individuals held with their audience was distinctively different from the "influencers" we know today).

In the health and beauty industry, one slogan started to stir the pot--AKA the great movement of "you are what you eat." Fully convinced that there is nothing new here, but the brands, the trend masters, the time herself rebranded the slogan, and yes, it was ground breaking, once again. Now, twenty-something me would take it as a gentle reminder from the industry, but when you're 11 years old, things hit different. Teach 'em young, they say. The industry really tried to sell it. By a single snap, individual minds turned into a collective consumer.

After all, the message ultimately ended up in the meme pit--as my friend added, "Am I Hannibal Lecter then? Because I surely tell my girl I will eat her out, and I'm a man of my word." Diabolical. What a wicked talk. He wasn't alone, there were so many others who would've agreed in the comments. Surprisingly, this led me to dive deeper into existential pep talk: Are we really what we consume?

This question isn't about your diet or shaming your taste. It's poking the sense of oneself, our ways of building identity, fabricating, reinventing, and stitching ourselves by consistently consuming SOMETHING. Arts, culture, takeouts, social media, information, trend, mood boards... an indefinite number of items we consume. Early age of social media used to promote themselves as a practical medium, a tool that anybody can use to express individuality in virtual space, which will eventually affect your social status IRL. These days, we have social media feeding us aesthetics, labels we can choose, and trending pieces following a demographic one's in. Unless you have a superpower, it is undeniably hard to disengage with the product, the concepts of identity they sell.

If capitalism were a guy, it would be the most ruthless finance bro. The expansion of capitalist value accelerated the commodification of almost everything. It opened the gate to endless possibilities--after all, everything holds the potential of a commodity. The market will sell you a sense of identity, community, potential of potentials, anything that may give you the feeling of security in yourself. WHO declared the loneliness epidemic. Capitalistic society drives individuals to social isolation, ironically, when it is also a market that individuals rely on to pursue (buy) a sense of belonging. I have also done it. I have also tried to buy a personality kit and a community to feel like I am engaged in a social group and be representable. In contemporary society, things tend to feel cold despite the weather. Public transits, neighbourhood's 7th cafe with white walls, social gatherings, casual interactions... Our environment has lost its warmth because every little thing feels transactional. Even the exchange of emotions may come off transactional sometimes. Not to mention, thanks to online dating platforms, things are even getting worse. From the old quote, "time is gold," to literal "time IS currency." When "gold" carried a meaning of genuine care for time's value, "currency" is heavy on its monetary value. That being said, the idea of "currency" extends to individuals themselves--eventually turning ourselves into commodities.

Thanks for hanging out with me. Can I leave a 15% tip?

In the era of peak capitalism, we cannot shame its way of commodifying us, our lives and surroundings because we can still buy them back and pray for the best that it is still authentic. Pop culture's obsession over authenticity is no mystery. Lost in translation, we all try to shop for identity to restore our individuality. Sometimes, you don't need to browse the products yourself. The selections put you in a category and it forms a chain--an algorithm, showing where you belong. It keeps feeding "your" type until your cart identifies as one aesthetic--now turn to be your social group. Alas, the cycle repeats.

Selena Gomez and The Scene's Who Says was an iconic bop, lyrics filled with encouragement that you should never doubt your true self and the natural beauty it comes with, forget the critiques (in her case, the media being a bully). Today, we are products of commodities. Early age of digital and individuality's integration celebrated innovative self expressions. Consumers, the users were actually just USERS. It was experimental, risky, exciting, and real. It was bad but it was also equally good. Individuality is the source of warmth in our space.