Most people could categorize me as a Basic Bitch, and I really don’t care.
I love ballet flats and sweater vests (I’m wearing both as I type). I think that headbands are killer when styled correctly. Nothing gets me going like a well-structured matching set or a crisp oxford button-up paired with mid-rise skinny jeans. I curl my hair in loose waves because the simple style flatters my face shape (not all of us are blessed with pixie-worthy cheekbones). I love fall foliage and sweater weather, though I’m not a huge fan of the whole pumpkin-spice thing (that makes me different right?! I’m original, right?! I’m not basic, am I?!).
This desperate quest for originality must be rather exhausting. People who are “different” don’t spend the majority of their time avoiding being called “basic,” they’re far too busy following the path that most intrigues them while carving out a lifestyle that inspires others—whether or not said lifestyle includes daily trips to Starbucks is none of your damn business.
I understand that the term “basic bitch” is meant to represent more than fashion and beauty tendencies, but the whole concept is just such…bullshit. The entire obsession is just another form of marginalization, as explained in this article by The Cut:
“…the woman who calls another woman basic ends up implicitly endorsing two things she probably wouldn’t sign up for if they were spelled out for her: a male hierarchy of culture, and the belief that the self is an essentially surface-level formation.”
When you call someone basic, you are BASICally implying that a she who enjoys a glass of Pinot Grigio and a fashion magazine while winding down from work in a pair of leggings and UGG boots is incapable of having a complex set of dreams, desires, and life goals.
Hopefully some “Non-Basic-Bitch” comes up with another self-serving catchphrase soon. I personally prefer the term “Classic See-You-Next-Tuesday,” but I’ll leave it up to the professionals.