To Thirst or Not To Thirst?
On crushes, being perceived, and the death of the thirst trap
Whoopsies!
I missed two weeks of writing in a row. Who am I?
Even Grammarly is confused:
In the spirit of brat summer, I’m not sorry.
I’ve been living that life von dutch (for once) and took some impromptu time away from these silly little articles.
I hope you missed me as much as I missed you!
Now onto the very serious matter at hand…
While I was gone, Unbothered's Thirst Week series unearthed a crucial divide in the state of internet horniness.
One article claims that we thirst, therefore we are:
[W]e now live in a world where what is defined as hot can be so vast, it can be anyone and anything. Thirst trapping is everyone’s game to play and we’re going for the gold.
Another touts the death of flirty posting:
Thirst traps have been filed away under millennial cringe along with peace signs and showing your ankles.
And so we find ourselves at a philosophical crossroads. To thirst or not to thirst?
That is the question.
My Instagram feed has been lacking in overtly hot content.
Never have I seen less bikini pictures, gym selfies, and shamelessly staged OOTDs.
Instead, I am barraged with tablescapes, landscapes, and various beverages in front of various backdrops with various emojis as captions.
I had assumed this was a sign of ageing.
Wedding candids and family portraits were always poised to replace arched backs and duck faces, no?
And yet! I have simultaneously never witnessed more Instagram stories openly lusting after celebrities than I have in the last six months.
The desire for sexy subject matter has shifted away from our personal grids and into the rotating parade of “close friend” stories.
I ask in earnest: is it normal to know how many of my peers, former classmates, and coworkers fantasize about Paul Mescal’s shorts, well-endowed Olympic pole vaulters, Charli XCX’s underwear, Challengers, JFK’s grandson, Pedro Pascal’s slutty little knee, and Jacob Elordi’s bath water?
What would we rather: Seeing your friend’s thong bikini on your main feed? Or their “yes chef” retweet of Jeremy Allen White?
I stand firmly in support of both.
After all, is there a better sensation than having a crush? Does anything feel more powerful than lusting?
In 2024 we’ve done away with pretense and are openly sharing obscure crushes under the guise of “rat boy summer.”
We are eagerly awaiting Gladiator II to oggle oiled-up thighs.
We are making slow-mo compilations of Olympic swimmers to Lana Del Ray tracks without a second pause.
This is a new era of being yearners, not yearn-ees.
Our camera flashes are off and the world is our Wattpad.
When posting thirst traps, there is a moment before the first “like” where you question your entire existence.
Will people think this looks desperate? Is it desperate? Do I care? As a married woman, who exactly am I trying to trap? My own confidence?? My self-esteem???
As fire emojis roll in, the doubts quell, but you will never truly know how your posts are perceived.
Let me illustrate with a story…
I spent time with a friend/friend’s younger sister at a music festival last weekend.
We’ve known each other for years.
We’ve swapped clothes.
We’ve escaped escape rooms.
I thought we had a bond.
A big part of how I view my marriage is through music festivals. Mark and I met at Osheaga in Montreal and have attended every year since. The most frequent photos of us on my Instagram feed are from concerts.
I see this festival as a core part of who we are to the outside world.
My friend asked how many Osheaga’s Mark and I have been at together.
“Around six,” I said. “It’s an anniversary thing for us.”
She nodded, looking slightly confused. “And you guys met at Jack Astor’s?”
How quickly the image of my relationship shattered.
How did that story get invented? At what point did we give off this vibe?? Where in our narrative has Jack Astor’s ever been pivotal? How many people think this???
I thought everyone saw us as a cute, music-loving couple.
Instead, we’re chain restaurant ambassadors.
Let this be your reminder that there is no escape from how others see you.
Maybe this was always how we were meant to be understood. Maybe pommel horse guy was destined to be a meme. Maybe Barry Koeghan was always going to become a weird girl heartthrob. Maybe Raygun was always meant to become my new hero (more on her another time).
If someone's perception is their reality, what is a thirst trap but a cage for the sluttiest version of ourselves???
Another story from the weekend:
On the Sunday of Osheaga, a group of us wore matching shirts for our friend’s 33rd birthday - dubbed by us as his “Jesus birthday.”
Iykyk.
We quickly learned that not everyone has our catholic-school-upbringing sense of humour.
Even fewer people are willing to stop and ask questions.
Many festival-goers saw the birthday shirts with religious iconography and gave us a wide berth.
It only took a few panicked looks and downcast eyes from passersby to realize our mistake — Everyone thought we were a church group.
I wish I was joking.
I wish we could take it back.
Since we’ve been home, I’ve been thinking a lot about the version of me that exists between how I was perceived all weekend and how I perceived myself:
If reality lives in the middle, I’m not sure I want to know what it is.
When I think “intense rodent,” I’m instantly reminded of when Matty Healy bragged that he inspired the rat in Flushed Away.
That’s not the energy I want to bring into any function.
How mortifying.
How absolutely horrific.
I feel compelled to post a very hot, very non-Christian picture outside of a chic speakeasy or gastro-pub.
Or maybe...to not post anything ever again and risk being perceived at all…
RIP to the thirst trap. I’ll miss you!
Hanging Thoughts:
Do you have a time when you were misperceived horrifically?
Are there thirst traps in your feed?
Are you posting any???
Who are you lusting after???
Tell me about the weirdest crush you are willing to broadcast (and please say it with your chest)