My Star Wars Story
About a month or so ago, Ashley Eckstein and her amazing Her Universe brand teamed up with Hot Topic to ask girls to share their Star Wars story, using the hashtag #MyStarWarsStory. I thought about participating, as I do with most hashtags. Usually the hashtag is something stupid like #MovieTitlesWithTacoInTheName and I’ll instantly think “Ah, yes, how about The Man From T.A.C.O.” and “Mad Max: Taco Road” and “Revenge of the Tacos” (but that one has a pretty unappealing ending). I’ll chortle at my terrible answers in my head and then move on without ever typing a word. I only allow myself to be an idiot for 30 minutes a day and why waste that precious time on taco-related hashtags.
But “My Star Wars Story.” Hmm, now that sounded interesting. I love the Her Universe brand and selfishly assume Ashley created it solely for me, because of my past struggles trying to find nerd clothes in women’s sizes. I like to think my built-up frustration manifested itself into an otherworldly necro-spirit that invaded Ashley’s dreams one night saying “OoooOOOooOooOoohhh…maaAAakkee StaaAAArr WaAAAaars shirts for LIIIIIiiiiIIiiIiIIsssAaAaaaaa….” and then she did. That’s probably how it happened. I like to think ghosts do the majority of my bidding.
I figured a Star Wars story was a tale about how someone fell in love with the Star Wars franchise, but lately I’ve been feeling entirely OUT of love with it. In a full-on shoulder-bag-wearing, coffee-house-frequenting, Pearl-Jam-listening hipster way, I came to the conclusion that it was because I loved Star Wars back when mainstream humans didn’t give two craps about it, and now the entire WORLD is a Star Wars fan. I stew in my little hrumph cloud thinking “yeah pffh sure I bet they don’t even know what AT-AT stands for or what Boss Nass’s real name is or blah blah wah wah pfffffh.” *collapses from excessive pffh-ing*
How outrageously stupid is that? One of the reasons I got my first writing job in video games is because I went off in a blog post about how girls who know nothing about video games labeling themselves “gamer girls” is sickening, and how dare they pander and wear God of War tank tops when they couldn’t even last 5 minutes with Kratos. It’s astounding that I could even reach the keyboard from atop my sky-high horse.
Honestly, who CARES. Who even cares. I feel so damn embarrassed that I ever wrote that rubbish. Sure, it can be irritating when someone flippantly treads on a franchise you hold dear, but it deserves an eye roll and a shoulder shrug, not an Internet flame war. Let people love what they love. And I’m confident I will forget those words and totally contradict myself in the future, in which case, just link me back to this blog and I’ll promptly apologize.
Funny thing is, I told my Star Wars story, and realized none of what made me love Star Wars came from my fanatical knowledge of it. That was merely a bonus. It was because of my dad, and the memories I have of watching the six films with him. I found myself actually reminiscing about The Phantom Menace fondly. That would send any loyal Star Wars fan (and former me) to an early grave due to a rage seizure.
…But if you ask younger me, maybe it wasn’t so bad. Maybe the experience outweighs the film quality. What a concept. :D
I urge you to post your own story, using #MyStarWarsStory. Visit HerUniverse.com and follow my girl Ashley on Twitter @HerUniverse. It’s a great brand led by an incredible woman! I want to be more like her.