Why I will yell at you if you tell me I look like Taylor Swift

Every couple weeks (without a new album of hers out, its getting less and less frequent), someone comes up to me and goes "Hey! You look like Taylor Swift!"

These occurrences fall into one of two categories: strangers and friends/acquaintances. 

The ones from strangers are funny and I generally take them in stride and just use them as anecdote fodder. Check-out people at Target, random pre-teen girls at Starbucks, lots of moms, waiters--all feel the need to tell me that I look like Taylor Swift. The best ones are the people who look at me and go, "You look familiar..." but can't place it. Or better yet, the people who ask me if I am Taylor Swift. Doesn't happen that often, but its so, so funny when it does. Yes, Taylor Swift lives in a suburb in Atlanta and nannies in her free time. 

The worst is people who ask me, "Has anyone ever told you you look like Taylor Swift?", as if they've just had this really unique epiphany about my appearance. I read this article by a journalist who resembles Harry Potter, or I guess technically Daniel Radcliffe, and resonated with it at pretty much every point,  (read it here: http://www.observer.com/2011/07/regarding-harry), one of the main ones being the general public's lack of creativity with this observation. Or even more tiring, their utter unawareness of their lack of creativity. If someone ever came up to me and quoted song lyrics, I would think that was hilarious.  

The ones from friends/acquaintances, however, are not funny. I literally give people extra points mentally if they never bring it up. Its a small list, and its always groan-inducing when someone I've met a few times is so close to being good enough friends with me I would assume we'd talked about it already

and then they go and say it. C'mon man. 

So, why do I object so strongly to being told I look like T-Swift or even being associated with her? 

Here is my exhaustive, comprehensive, and conclusive opinion on the subject. For anyone whose ever been subjected to my pouting after trying to pay me a compliment, most likely, here's why:

[1.] I don't look like Taylor Swift.

Hear me out. Do I fall into the same type category as Taylor Swift? Absolutely. We are both 5'10 and have similar hair. And, granted, there was one time I saw a picture and went, "Whoa, I totally don't remember being here--" and then realizing that it was actually a picture of her. But it was this picture:

Taken from far away. Could've happened to anyone. 

Back to my point. We look similar, from some aspects. But our face structures are completely different. And generally I would say one's face is one's most distinguishing aspect. Also, no one ever told me I looked liked her when I used to straighten the heck out of my hair, so more accurately people should say that my hair looks like her hair, not me generally.

[2.]  I don't really like being associated with her.
Originally I liked Taylor Swift. When her first album came out and she was the new face out of Nashville, I loved her music. It was relatable, original country-pop and it wasn't overplayed. However, the third album is an entirely different story. Its one thing to be singing about boys who done you wrong and mean girls at your high school from the perspective of an up-and-coming artist, its another to act the victim when you're one of the most successful artists in the world. Using your number one album to chronicle every terrible awful thing anyone else has ever done to you is petty. And she knows it, otherwise the song "Better Than Revenge" wouldn't exist. Also, I'm unconvinced that she deserves the immense amount of fame she has. There are better technical and more acclaimed singers out there who should be winning those best album/best artist Grammys. And in her interviews she always seems kind of neurotic to me. 

Caveat: Once I decide I dislike something, or really someone, everything they do is viewed through that perspective. If someone else had given the same interview I probably wouldn't even have noticed. I realize I'm probably being a little harsh. 

[3.] Reason three is less legitimate (reason four is better, bear with me). Like most teenage girls, I relate to her song lyrics. (A friend of mine once said, "you cannot have an emotion that Taylor Swift hasn't written about," which is relatively true, especially on relationship issues). So of course when I was experiencing those emotions when Speak Now dropped, I listened to those corresponding songs. So "Sparks Fly" and "Enchanted" remind me of a guy that I really liked. And then when things fell apart with him, I maybe overdosed a little bit on "Story of Us", "Haunted", etc. So Taylor Swift now reminds me of that part of last year, which isn't something I particularly like to be reminded of. However...that's really not her fault. 

Back to the legitimate reasons why I don't like being told I look like Taylor Swift:

[4.] I really, really resent being "the girl who looks like Taylor Swift".
This, more than anything else, is the core of why the whole thing bothers me. Its like my identity has been reduced to looking like someone famous. People I've never met refer to me as the GWLLTS. Friends describe me to other people as the GWLLTS because its that, over my name, major, activities, who I'm friends with, that sparks recognition. At one point last year, I had a crush on someone and was talking to friend about it and she said, "Oh, he definitely likes you." When I asked how she knew, she said, "Because he has like a huge thing for Taylor Swift." 

Um. 

Well, thanks Taylor. Apparently you and my resemblance to you is the only thing getting me guys. Glad to know that my personality's irrelevant. 

And yes, I realize that people are usually trying to compliment me. But it would be a lot more thoughtful to actually compliment me, because its not even calling me pretty, its just telling me I look like someone who is pretty. It reduces my identity to my appearance--and not even my appearance, but its similarity to someone else's. 

And this has actually become a fear. That when guys I don't know introduce themselves that they just want to meet the Taylor Swift lookalike. And why I start getting nervous when I notice the posters and calendars in the room, the listening to Fearless on Spotify, the fact that I'm in their phone as "Taylor Swift".... (true story. that's really happened.). 

I haven't done the best job handling the whole situation. I definitely complicate the issue by sometimes going along with it. Mostly because when you meet someone and they say, "Hey, you're the girl who looks like Taylor Swift!", as annoying as it is, I don't really want to launch into my diatribe of Lauren's Fourteen Long-Winded Reasons Why You Shouldn't Have Said That. This was especially true during freshmen orientation. People could have called me whatever they wanted, I was just happy they remembered me. Also, I sometimes do things like change my profile picture to her during Celebrity Doppelganger Week on Facebook or dress up like her on Halloween. That really doesn't help. 

I should probably be more gracious about the whole thing. But what I'm really trying to avoid is going from "The Girl Who Looks Like Taylor Swift" to "The Girl Who Thinks She Looks Like Taylor Swift". I figured vehemently fighting against the comparison would be the best way to avoid the second nickname. Or printing this out and distributing it as leaflets.

The other complicated thing is that if you are good friends with me, it doesn't bother me. I know that sounds really weird after like four pages of whining about the issue, but if we're buds, I know its a joke. With acquaintances, I'm never completely sure. So don't feel like I'm going to punch you in the face if you make a Kanye joke or slip a little TSwift nickname in somewhere. I'll probably laugh. I would just prefer something more original, thats all.
I think that about says it all.

Anyone else besides the Harry Potter guy have celebrity lookalike issues?

BLD

This post is a little overdue. But better late than never.

Last Saturday there was a blacklight dance.

That normally wouldn't be too out of the ordinary. Except that Wheaton for many years was essentially Footloose University and dancing wasn't allowed. Eventually that was changed, but there could only be four dances a year and they were hosted by one on-campus group, College Union. It was a dance monopoly, if you will. These dances have been the same for the last two or three decades and involve things like square-dancing, swing-dancing, and roller skating. Fun, but not exactly up to date.

This summer, that changed. If you were a group on campus, you could request to hold a dance. 

Our class council decided, after much debate, decided to make it a blacklight dance. And as events coordinator, I was in charge. And more than a little nervous. 

This should not have gone well.

The administration was skeptical.

The students were worried it would get out of hand.

We're only sophomores and we don't have even close to the resources College Union does.

But we did it. And after months of planning, stress, worry, and prayer (And I mean constant, please-God-let-this-go-well prayer) it happened. And it absolutely rocked. That "BLD" title could just as easily be "BFD" because it is a big freaking deal that this happened.

So to the tear-down editorials filled with snarky comments that all we did was take away some of the "nastier elements" that go along with the connotation this kind of event (i.e. drinking, drugs, a "hyper-sexualized environment")--then what exactly is the problem? I understand the concern that this kind of a thing is trying to be too much a part of the world, and that's valid. Our primary goal shouldn't be to be "cool". But I fail to see how providing a safe environment for people to have fun on campus damages our credibility as Christians. And I think the fact that the author of that editorial said she herself had fun--even while on the lookout for any hint of immorality or misdirected intentions--proves our point.
I think people were afraid because this was new. Because yes, we were playing the same music played in clubs. But this is a classic example of high/low culture preferences. No one at all has problems with a salsa dance (I guess no one's seen Dirty Dancing), probably because it has more of a set form and its part of many people's cultural heritage. Well, for a lot of our generation, house music is cultural. And making blanket statements about culture is narrow-minded. Condemnation leads very, very easily into legalism. This is okay, this is not. If you listen to this song, if you go to that club--ooh, you must be struggling with your faith, huh?
Yes, there are elements of that scene, that culture, that don't line up with our morals--but for me at least, it comes down to intent. If you really wanted to, you could make the Charleston inappropriate. And I fully understand the point that if something is a stumbling block for some, then the rest of us need to be sensitive to that and not provide temptation. After all, that's really what the Community Covenant is for.We are told that "everything is permissible, but not everything is beneficial". So if for you going to the Blacklight Dance was a pseudo version of a club scene that went against what you believe is beneficial for you, then I apologize. Truly, that was not our intent.
Maybe because they didn't get to see all the work that went into this. They saw flashing lights, heard pounding bass, saw a sea of jumping people. They had no idea that this was a showcase of so many different people's talents--the technical expertise behind the sound, the technological wizardry behind the lights show, the artistry behind a perfectly delivered setlist. 

To the 99% of you who saw this as a positive thing, thank you. This is my little Internet shout-out to everyone who helped. You all are incredible. I am so proud to be friends with you, to work with you, to share this with you. Last Saturday, you showed the campus and the administration something incredibly important. We can dance without getting out of control. We can move into this century without compromising our morals. We proved that really what Wheaton wants when we go to clubs is time to hang out with our friends in a new setting, let our hair down, have fun, de-stress and go crazy in the best sense of the word. We proved that house and club music is not inherently bad, that blacklights do not signify sketchiness.

The pure joy that showed through your dancing, jumping, laughing, singing, smiling and DJ-ing made it all worth it.

I am incredibly proud to be a member of the Class of 2014, in so many more things than this. We're movers and shakers. We're revolution starters. We're passionate. And this is just the beginning.

Addendum: my grandmother, Wheaton Class of 1962, just saw the video for the blacklight dance (http://vimeo.com/31673252) and said "Oh my, those kids look like they're having fun. Wow I wish we had had stuff like that."