I remember exactly where I was when it happened. It was a spring day in 2019, I had just parked my car in the mall parking lot (The Oshawa Centre in Oshawa, Ontario, Canada to be specific). I picked up my phone, thinking I would just briefly check it before heading on in to do my shopping. When I unlocked my phone it opened automatically to the Instagram app and, unbeknownst to me, the post at the top of the feed would completely change the trajectory of my day. It was a screenshot of a youtube video. The thumbnail: a woman I immediately recognize as none other than widely beloved MUA Tati Westbrook, the title: two words, all caps, BYE SISTER. I was taken aback —flabbergasted even— I thought to myself, there's no way this is real. I closed the instagram app with a combination of intense ferocity and child-like glee. Hands shaking, I carefully typed the words "bye sister" into the youtube search bar. There it was. Posted 2 minutes ago.
I propped up my phone on the car dashboard, connected the audio to the car speakers, pressed play, and sat back —ready to take it all in. I had no idea what I was about to watch, but I knew it was going to require my full attention. That's right, I sat in my car in a mall parking lot for 43 minutes watching a video where an adult woman (37, she was Thirty Seven) accuses a 19 year old boy of being a power hungry charlatan and sexual miscreant all because he posted one instagram story ad for a rival to her vitamin company. And guess what? I enjoyed every last minute of it. I revelled in the pure spectacle of it, the complete absurdity —I was nourished by the melodrama. It didn't just stop with the video, I perused #JamesCharlesIsOverParty on twitter for days, I watched every single tea spill video; I was, what some people might call, "obsessed".
I guess it is important to clarify that I have a bit of a history with the beauty community on youtube. From ages 11-13 I watched makeup tutorials like they were gospel. Now, I was initially going to make a joke like "and James Charles was my Jesus Christ", but I can't bring myself to deceive you dear reader, truthfully I was never a big fan of his makeup tutorials (I mean have you seen what his eyebrows used to look like). But that does not mean that I wasn't well acquainted with his existence far before that fateful spring day in 2019.
It is also important to clarify that in 2019 I was 16 years old, I had been free from the clutches of sculpted eyebrows, cut creases, and shamelessly undisclosed product ads for quite some time. So I'm sure you're wondering why this video had such a powerful impact on me. A big part of it was definitely nostalgia for my bygone MUA days, but truthfully the main reason I was so captivated is my profound, completely intellectual —some might even say metaphysical— love for gossip.
I will be the first to admit that I love gossip. I am tired of the shame that society tries to force upon me regarding my unabashed appreciation. There isn't a doubt in my mind that the vast majority of the population loves gossip just as much as I do, but rather than claim it proudly, they hide it under covert layers of sophistication. I have a really great example of this, but first I have to make an unfortunate confession to all those reading who don't know me. I (to the scrutiny of almost everyone I meet) am a political science major. Political science as a field is what I like to call "high brow gossip". People go into the field of political science so that they say, "Hey did you hear US Congressman George Santos claimed his mom was a 9/11 survivor even though she was actually living in Brazil at the time. Oh also pictures of him in drag were just released!" and get to claim that this incredibly juicy piece of gossip is actually just legitimate, dignified political discourse. (My reference was initially going to be about former mayor of Toronto, Rob Ford (RIP), who was caught doing crack after vehemently denying it for years, but I know that this is a primarily American audience and I don't want to isolate my reader).
Gossip, whether you like it or not, has legitimate healing, unifying power. Have you ever experienced the mind-numbing agony of being on hour 2 of an 8 hour minimum wage shift with that one coworker you just can't get along with? You've already run through the cursory niceties (weather, length of shift, weekend plans) and it seems like all hope is lost until, out of nowhere, they drop a saving grace: "did you hear what [insert name of coworker who no one likes] did the other day?" or "you're never going to guess what this crazy customer said to me". Immediately, the conversation is flowing, there's a palpable excitement in the air. Love of gossip is universal. It permeates all personal differences. You may have nothing in common with that one coworker, but in that moment, you are spiritually linked by the act of gossiping.
Now this brings me back to the paradigm shift that was "BYE SISTER". This was by no means the first major drama to happen in the beauty community and yet somehow it broke into the mainstream. The way people from all walks of life dropped everything to weigh in on this completely absurd spectacle should be studied by historians (and I will proudly lead that charge if necessary). Now I have to say, in principle, I do not necessarily agree with internet-wide witch hunts. However, overlooking trivial things like "morality" and "integrity", you have to admit the way the entire internet united over something that, underneath all the layers of theatrics, was so incredibly banal, is just truly fascinating. I firmly believe that there is a profound, morbid beauty in the act of gossiping and for that reason, I will never let anyone make me feel ashamed about my unwavering devotion to drama.
Thank you to the lovely Violet, for allowing me —an amateur/up and coming blogger— to have a taste of the big leagues. If you like what you just read, check out my newly released blog: Miss World.
-MW
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