In Defence of Being Culturally Fluffy
I will stand up tall and say- I am Liv Purvis and I am culturally fluffy.
It's that time again when I approach my culturally fluffy* quarter of the year.
In the next few weeks the glitter ball trophy returns with Tess and Claude (who I refer to by first name and abbreviated basis only), the Bake Off tent is once again filled with the sweet sweet scent of slowly rising Victoria sponges and the echo of dad-style-baking jokes I can only dream of creating, and Paddington 3 becomes the film of the season, over and above any Oscar’s titles that will pepper the December and January to follow. As Andy Williams said about Strictly specifically, it’s the most wonderful time of the year. Married at First Sight UK is even back!? Did it even end?!
Some people might blame the nights drawing in. The fact that it starts getting dark from about 3pm come October, and that lighting all of your posh candles after lunch on a Tuesday afternoon is now socially acceptable and not a sign of an impending seance. “We need something to make the days brighter!” we chime, as we rewatch Gorka’s Argentine Tango for the 11th time on Monday morning. We might even blame the fact that going out when it’s less than 10 degrees after 7pm is categorically No Fun™ and we just need something cosy! and! cute! to settle down with.
I however, am confident in blaming it on the fact that all of the above things are just really bloody good, and we, or I, simply need to be honest about it.
I will stand up tall and say- I am Liv Purvis and I am culturally fluffy.
I say this all with a pinch of salt. I don't love the world fluffy because it can make things feel unimportant, ditzy or like they’re from the Elle Woods choice of television (which, I’m sure would be marvellous)- when actually to me, a bit of fluff often feels like reliability, comfort and pure unfiltered enjoyment- often without pretension or the need to impress. For a long time, I’ve felt a bit ashamed about my love of true, cultural fluffiness. In a world that values and corresponds social choices so closely with intelligence, I can admit that at times I’ve felt a bit fraudulent for feeling that the things I really love in life can make me seem not ‘smart’ or serious enough. Even typing this, it feels like there *could* be some feminist issues at play here. “Liv!! You mean to say you feel a bit unintelligent for loving a show about dancing and a musical showered in sequins?!!'“ In the words of Harry from The Traitors (yes!! the one with lovely gelled hair and a cross earring on terrestrial TV!!), it’s ‘moving bare suss’.
So, perhaps this is a little love letter to the culturally cosy things in life. I’m mindful of not making this a think piece about my own insecurities and shouting into the ether ‘I’M NOT THICK JUST BECAUSE I HAVEN’T READ THIS YEARS BOOKER PRIZE’ (is that out yet? As long as it’s a rom com, we’re good, ok!!) but a celebration of the lighter things in life, and it being absolutely okay to not always feel as up to date, ‘cool’ (whatever that even means) and current as we think our intelligence could be credited with (put it this way guys ‘n’ dolls, last year I got above 3 on University Challenge on more than one occasion and not simply by guessing!). This is an open armed declaration for the things I am proud to enjoy, no matter how it looks online or whether they might be ‘aesthetic’ or not. I will live and die on the hill that Donna and The Dynamos dance on! Mamma Mia 2 is a work of cinematic musical art and I will not hear otherwise! I don’t have an elusive film or book taste, and despite how I am sure it would up my cool credentials with my own internal monologue substantially, I really don’t know much about Jean Luc Goddard or some of the things they play on 6 Music. I read things on Substack that often feel beyond my remit and admittedly sometimes I feel a bit silly for having ‘pool reads’ as one of my favourite book genres, but remind myself that not every day has to be a school day.
So here’s to allowing myself to breath a deep sigh of Meg Ryan as we crunch through this second week of September. We all have enough to worry about- let’s take unseriousness by the hand and let it guide us through the winter (if we want it to). There’s no shame in sequins and (Len Goodman style) ‘SEVENS!’ after all…
*an obnoxiously large asterix is necessary here as a) I use the word fluffy as a nice ‘cosy’ word, not because I think any of the following are frivolous.
Loved this! When studying for my degree (English, Media & Cultural Studies) I often felt a pressure to be a lot more ‘high brow’ than I really was and would never had admitted that I truly think Paddington 2 is a better film than Fight Club but I think recently there’s been such a shift towards celebrating ‘fluffy’ culture and not being ashamed of your interests from podcasts like the High Low (RIP) and Shameless to the myriad of ‘cores’ and ‘eras’ on Tik Tok - long may this shift to fluff continue!
Looooved this. Going to tune into bake off next Tuesday, but this time I’m going to do it PROUDLY. ❤️