WHAT’S MY AGE AGAIN? EMILY PALMER WANTS EVERYONE TO STOP JUDGING HER ART: ANTHONY NOCERA
16
When we hit sixteen, we’re allowed to have sex legally, join the armed forces and get married (although with parental consent). At eighteen, we’re allowed to do all that without parental consent, as well as buy and drink alcohol legally. Oh, and vote. Because the first thing I said when I turned eighteen was ‘woohoo, I can finally vote for my choice of political leader’.
hide and seek etc. Then in high school, we develop into sitting in friendship groups chatting. At university, we study in our breaks. No playing for us anymore, unless we’re talking about video games (seriously, I’m not talking about video games). The ‘play’ window has closed and we’ll spend the rest of the lunch breaks in our lives doing something mature and not particularly fun. I want to go back to year four and spend all of my twenty-cent pieces on chocolate buttons instead of a proper lunch, before playing on the monkey bars for half an hour.
So growing up is great, but there are also things we’re not allowed to do anymore as we get older. Stuff that gets so not cool. Take, for instance, my abiding love of Taylor Swift. As a fifteen/sixteen year old, this was perfectly fine; most of my age group also loved Taylor Swift. Ask the same group of people, now twenty or twenty one, if they love her and you’ll get a resoundingly awkward silence. Start playing it on your laptop, and your housemate will look at you sideways as if to ask, how old are you again? Most of you will side with these judgemental people. You probably think that I have an appalling taste in music. But why was I allowed to love it five years ago and not now? It’s still just as catchy and cheerful as it was back then. My friends talk about bands I’ve never heard of (yes, I’m the world’s best anti-hipster, because I’ve never heard of anything), and have mature, grown up possessions like fridges and washing machines. I’m still singing along to Taylor Swift in my car, cranked up as loudly as possible, because I’m too ashamed to play it in my room anymore. What else are we forced out of loving, as we get older? What other childhood joys are torn away from us by the cruel, cruel hand of time? Pigtails are something that springs to mind.
Not that there aren’t amazing privileges that come with growing up. One day, I intend to be married and not have to watch my weight anymore. I look forward to the time I can sit on the elderly bus seats, probably taking up a whole row to myself due to the aforementioned weight gain. Until then, I’ll continue listening to Taylor Swift and reminiscing about the things I’ve lost, while also enjoying the things I’ve gained. Alcohol certainly helps dull the nostalgia.
If you want to wear pigtails now, you’re either heading to a fancy dress party dressed as a slutty schoolgirl or Pippy Longstockings. You can’t just go about in pigtails in public, sans fancy dress excuse. It’s just not done. The idea of ‘playing’ has disappeared from my vocabulary, which is something I seriously miss. As a ten year old, I used to spend hours playing with model horses and Lego and other amazing toys. During the breaks in primary school, we played games like tag,
Emily Palmer will continue to pretend she has outgrown Taylor Swift and possesses a hipster-like taste in music. You probably haven’t heard of the bands she likes