On Cringe, Crocs and a Dog Named Michelle

A meme my sister sent me when I told her about my impulsive purchase.

Does anybody else feel like screaming these days?

I made my first impulsive purchase in a very long time¹: plastic sandals with fake diamonds. Reader, I don’t understand what happened. One day I had my sanity and 24 hours later I was parading white platform Crocs adorned with FIFTY BUCKS worth of charms (fake diamonds and pearls) around my apartment.

The parading didn’t last long, though. Within minutes of having Crocs on my feet, a strange feeling took over my body. I detected a hint of deflation and a dash of embarrassment. That’s when I realized there’s a word for that: CRINGE.

My family went out for ice cream at a place called Iconoglace two nights ago. As I was enjoying my sundae on the sidewalk, I noticed a man on a bench with red curly hair play with his small Italian Greyhound. The dog ran to the street corner and the man yelled “Michelle! Come back!”

There is an Italian Greyhound called Michelle living in Montreal’s Mile-End neighbourhood.

I’m not sure if the dog was male or female. Michel for a dog sounds chic. Michelle, on the other hand sounds like it might have thyroid issues with a side of bedazzled Crocs. Whatever the sex, Michel(le) was pretty cute.

I don’t know why, but meeting an animal with the same name as you falls into the cringe category.

Cringe is a feeling I haven’t felt in a long time. Sometimes I think back at certain events or things I did when I was younger, and were they ever cringe. I’ve been writing this newsletter for years, so I can’t remember whether I mentioned the following example: when I was twelve I wrote a song called “Self Esteem” and sang it (along with my friends/back-up singers) in English class.

Self esteem, that’s what you need
You want to get with me
You gotta try, try a little harder
Don’t be someone else
Just be yourself

You want to get me me??? Who exactly was going to “get with me?” As a thirty-something I want to vomit. But also, good for twelve-year-old me? Bravo for standing up in front of thirty pubescent children and singing something I wrote on a Saturday night while I was bored? How un-self-aware and awesome of me to face potential embarrassment and perform anyway.

The lesson is this: artists need to embrace cringe.

At the time, it never occurred to me that students in my class could laugh or snicker at our performance. I can’t remember if they ever did. My voice could have broken, we could have sounded awful. We could have forgotten the words to my 1999 hit song. It doesn’t matter. We sang. We expressed ourselves.

If you want to live a creative life and share your art with the world, then you must accept the awkwardness that comes with vulnerability. You must face the music: not everyone will appreciate your art or like you. You must face yourself: you are not perfect, you can and will fail, stop taking yourself too seriously. Nobody is thinking about you that much. You must grab that fear of embarrassment and run like hell towards your goals.

Several months ago, I submitted a poem to a literary journal. I’d never written a poem like that before, and was kind of embarrassed to submit it. It’s my weirdest work to date — not everybody will get it. The editors at SQUID got it, and they published my poem in their online journal.

It’s called ANIMAL and you can read it here.

More cringe, okay? Have a great weekend and take good care.

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Obsessions of the week

1. The song “One Thing” by Lola Young. On constant repeat.

2. Book lovers in Montreal: there’s a new bookstore in town that is also a café and bar. It’s called Joie de livres. It’s a beautiful, cozy space in the Mile-End and the staff if very kind. The bookstore is specialized in romance, fantasy, sci-fi and horror. I’m on vacation next week and I know exactly where I’ll be going for a coffee.

3. Writing with platform Crocs on my feet.

1. Books, as in supporting ART, don’t count.