the deal about followers

Before I entered the addicting world of social media, I never understood why people cared so damn much about their followers. It's just a number! Why were all of my friends going crazy and competing with each other over a stupid number? I thought it was shallow and petty.

Then I made a Pinterest. And a tumblr. And a Twitter (which I deleted very quickly and have recently remade). And I started writing stories and posting them online. On some networks, I never made it far. On others, I was completely blown away by how fast my follower count was increasing. But on all of the different social media mediums that I joined, I learned just how much a new follower means to me, especially if they're a stranger.

I was suddenly ensnared in a world of fierce competition. I found myself comparing how many followers I had to how many my friends had. First, I was upset at how much my opinions had changed. I tried to convince myself that networking itself was more valuable to me than the number of people who followed me.

It wasn't until recently that I realized that wanting followers is a natural part of being part of a social network. It means that someone out there likes what I post, what I like, what I want to say. I feel as if it's a connection with someone else, something that we're always looking for, no matter how small or insignificant.

Accepting this philosophy, I decided to revert my attention back to the actual act of networking. I rejoice when I get new followers, but it's not the main reason why I post or pin or write. Now I can completely understand the hype about followers; I just don't want that number to define my happiness.

leg avenue

Have you ever been to Dallas & Co? I'm sure that many of you have, seeing as it's the leading costume supplier in Champaign. Well, last Thursday, I had my first encounter with the sex shop that is called Dallas & Co.

I was tagging along with one of my friends as she rushed to grab a last-minute costume for Halloween. As we walked through the confusing maze of disturbing statues and gruesome masks, we came to a room filled with the most appalling products of all. Imagine the pale, innocent Snow White depicted in the Disney films. Now chop her dress to mid-thigh length and, hey, why not add an extra slit up there. Lower the neckline by a few inches. As long as there aren't nip-slips, we're a go. Add some cute, blue, 7-inch stilettos, and you're ready for Halloween!

Everywhere I turned, there were pictures of busty, leggy women in outfits that made mockeries of Disney princesses or honest jobs. Nurses, police officers, teachers, athletes. Why is it necessary to sexualize professional, successful women? I don't see men in sexy, chest-baring costumes. Why is Halloween a holiday in which men can express their masculinity, but women are expected to become sex objects? Leg Avenue. For Play. These are only two brand names that were showcased at Dallas & Co.

My friend went to go try on her outfit and when she asked for the top, the saleswoman took out a scrap of fabric that, according to another friend, "looked like a headband." There was no denying that it was barely there. I stood there awkwardly, trying not to glare at everyone. I failed.

I glared at the gross, frat boys who couldn't keep their perverted looks to themselves, whose eyes lingered far too long on all of the costume displays for girls. I glared at the girl who was asking her boyfriend's opinion about which would look better on her, the revealing dragon princess dress (an awful rendition of Daenerys Targaryen's) or Elsa's see-through ice gown. I glared at my friend when she wasn't looking for getting me to step into this store.

Ok, I might be exaggerating here. But even Dallas & Co. doesn't want to advertise their scandalous costumes for women. I went on the website and scrolled through the multiple pictures available. There are scary masks, a patriotic Abraham Lincoln costume (for men) and zombie statues. Nowhere on the site is there a picture of mini-dresses and fishnet tights, which is surprising considering that half of their store is dedicated to this kind of merchandise.

I want to make it clear that I am not against sexy costumes. Go sexy! Sexy is fun. What I'm trying to get across is very simple. Don't let society norms govern what you dress like. You don't have to be "sexy" to be SEXY.

As an end to this somewhat intense and impassioned post, I'm gonna give a shout-out to all those women out there who showed creativity, went against the status quo, and owned it at Halloween this year. WERK IT!