Andy Warhol once said, “In the future, everyone will be world-famous for fifteen minutes.”
Turns out, he was right.
Or, kinda right.
No one can argue that the Internet and social media opened doors to fame in a way few could have anticipated. Walking home through Union Square every day, I’m bound to catch someone on their phone, filming or snapping, in hopes of being the next “Cash Me Ousside Girl,” or, “Salt Bae,” or “Tiny Fist Baby.”
Gotta have hopes and dreams, y’all.
I used to criticize celebrities who shamelessly chased the spotlight, but with Instagram, Snapchat, Twitter, Facebook, et al., I’m beginning to understand how difficult fame must be to let go of. If the addiction of “likes” is so easy to succumb to, I can only begin to comprehend the rush stardom provides, and what the withdrawal from that high must deal out.
I do wonder, however, about those individuals who unwittingly found their Internet glory, and given the choice, whether they would have chosen that route to prominence or not: not all paths lead to the same destination. Fame for the sake of fame will never have any casualties in terms of aspirations, but the way by which you come across it can hinder other goals. On the flip side, once your name is out there, influence is in your own hands to wield. So I suppose my true question is how lazy or ambitious Internet fame can make us, or, have they somehow almost become one in the same thing? Has ambition become lazy, or has laziness become ambitious?
And will someone please coach me on how to become my own damn meme, so that I can get paid and not have to leave my couch?
I might have just answered my own question.
Zara coat and shoes; Vintage jeans, top, and purse; Pearl River Mart necklace