Executives say: “Well we Understand, Cottagecore is Out.”
The only positive to my new placement was the perfect view of the small television inside the coffee shop. Of course, I’m also right next to an apartment complex with people who throw out some of the most disgusting things I have ever smelled in my life. Seriously, do you wait for the chicken to rot and then throw it out? I was doing anything and everything I could to avoid the horrific smell of what smelled like seven year old eggs when I heard a special announcement coming through the television across the street; “This past weekend, landfills were filled with what appeared to be faux decor vines. At first, officials thought it was some sort of teenage prank. However, with more research, we discovered the cause. And, well, we understand. Cottagecore is out.” The only thing worse than the now rotten fish smell was the feeling of FOMO. Was I not good enough? Am I only good enough for rotten food?
I was awoken from my slumber to a loud clank. By the time I realized what was happening, I was all alone again, with a beautiful silk dress draped across me. Beneath the dress were several gorgeous pearl necklaces and bracelets, some tiaras, and lovely opera-length gloves. My favorite was a light pink corset with encrusted diamonds. It definitely had a Shein tag on it, but I didn’t care. I had a ripped Bridgerton poster thrown at me, but thankfully, it blew away. Can’t have that stealing my charm. As long as these beautiful garments were draped over me, maybe no one would notice the reeking smell of what I could only guess to be moldy cheese. If only someone could notice how beautiful I looked. I eyed the dumpster across the street and I could feel him looking at me too. How could he not with the pearls glistening in the rising sunlight. It was finally my moment to–beep, beep, beep. My only glimmer of hope for the day went away with the garbage men.
“Oh nawr! Cleo!” woke me out of my deep depressing sleep. “How can you do this?!?” Just then, a loud bang startled me and I looked to find a shimmering green mermaid tail at the bottom of my bin. The same girl that threw the mermaid tail in also threw in a coconut bra top, shell necklaces, and then ripped off her bright red wig. The other girl continued on, still wearing her green mermaid tail and hobbling to catch up, “You said we were in this together. Now I look stupid!” The other girl finished throwing out another mermaid tail and turned around to look the other girl up and down, “Why do you think I’m throwing it out? You look ridiculous!” At least someone said it. However, I do think the mermaid tail was a great addition for me. Just then, the girl with the mermaid tail fell down on the pavement as it began to drizzle. The other girl marched away as the fallen mermaid yelled out, “Nawr, the condensation!”
If I had to hear the lyrics, “With a taste of your lips, I’m on a ride,” one more time, I seriously was questioning if I would explode into several tiny pieces. Probably wouldn’t happen, but one could hope. The previous night someone had left a boombox with Britney Spears playing the same song over and over again, and I started to think it was a personal attack. Then, I started to look through the things left in my bin, and I actually have to say the tracksuits might have been more of a personal attack. I mean, c’mon, there’s no way you think those are actually fashionable? And the low rise jeans with the jewels? My big dump truck could never make those work. Plus the shoulder bags? And the baby tees? Those small things are just discrimination at this point. Last time I checked, it wasn’t 2006. Plus, those clothes are still laying in that landfill. Good thing I spilled the wrong shade of foundation everywhere. Looks like all the clothes are ruined, oh no.
It was a dark and stormy night. A bolt of lightning illuminated the new contents in the trash can and I held back a scream at a skull. Upon closer inspection, the skull was sitting above a wide variety of fancy black blazers, plaid and dark-colored skirts, and even some neutral-colored sweaters. I had also never seen so many books thrown out before. None of it made sense to me until the storm cleared in the morning. A woman walked by wearing a bathing suit with shorts that may have been revealing a little bit too much, but I guess it turns out Dark Academia doesn’t work out so well in the summer. It’s too bad because the platform boots were pretty hot. I’m glad everyone finally realized that they are, in fact, not a character from Wednesday.
A few weeks later, I was surprised by the amount of rats that had infested my bin. At first, I thought it was just because of the insane amount of rotting fruit, but then I realized they were actually playing with some colorful objects. I couldn’t help but admire how cute they were playing with what looked like hundreds of scrunchies. That is until one of them actually choked themselves on a scrunchie, and the rest followed suit, I would assume accidentally. Maybe they hated the trend as much as I did, especially the look of literally not wearing pants. Of course, I have to say the several stickers on my outside was a nice finishing touch.
Eventually, after a few more weeks, the constant cycle of clothes being thrown out stopped. I took some time to myself to recover from the death of my rat friends, who actually used to help clean out the smell. I finally started to see the light again, even though there was more expired food than ever. However, all of that came to an end when I saw an announcement pop up on the television across the street. The same executive that had talked about the death of cottagecore stated, “And, well, we understand. Wearing clothes is out.” I felt the fear ripple through me. The good news? I would finally have more clothes again. The bad news? Well, you can figure that one out.
Stephanie Tokasz is a second-year film, photography and visual arts major who loves dumpster diving for treasure. You can reach them at [email protected].