I feel both like a nerd reminiscing about my favorite classic video game and like an old-timer. However, I will use television series today to demonstrate my point that we have subconsciously tried to glamorize poverty during some of the most economically precarious times of our lives.
Consider the almost parallel shows "The O.C." and "Gossip Girl," both tales of teenagers from affluent neighborhoods - Newport Beach, Orange County and New York City's Upper East Side, respectively. "The O.C.," which aired from 2003 to 2007, has always been my favorite, while I struggled to maintain interest in "Gossip Girl," which aired from 2007 to 2012. I never understood why, despite these two series being extremely similar in terms of plot and themes, they provoked such different reactions in me. Both revolve around a main character from a poor background who unexpectedly integrates into a wealthy, close-knit social circle. It is the classic underdog story.
However, is Dan, the protagonist of "Gossip Girl," truly an underdog? He is portrayed as such, but he complains not because of poverty but because he is poorer than his friends. Granted, he is not a young billionaire like the others, but he does live in an enormous, multi-million-dollar penthouse in Brooklyn and his father owns an art gallery. If you know anyone in real life living in such supposedly "poor" conditions, with a gallerist father, who considers themselves poor, please let me know - I'd like to slap some sense into the poor fool. Ryan, the protagonist of "The O.C.," on the other hand, has an alcoholic mother who ends up in prison and is adopted for that reason. Now I understand my preference - I prefer things and people to be authentic and honest representations of themselves.
However, there is little authenticity even outside of television. Have we become the fictional realities we have created or did we craft those fictions because of who we already were? Inauthentic. This "poverty glamorization" also pervades social media, with videos of "budget-friendly" recipes made by individuals with kitchens stocked with appliances my grandmother or even Michelin-starred chefs never owned. Conversely, “peasant foods” becoming trendy, expensive menu items is another example of the commodification of poverty. Dishes born of necessity and scarcity are upscaled and priced highly in trendy restaurants. I don’t want a deconstructed lasagna! Leave lasagna as it is - these people can keep deconstructing gender. Furthermore, I’ve seen far more clickbait videos portraying a wealthy individual generously gifting a large sum to someone in poverty than I’d like to admit. Poverty is exploited as clickbait to boost viewership. The true burden of poverty is not nearly well-represented in terms of its immense difficulty. We often see the poor person being very gracious toward the benefactor before realizing their wealth, which elicits strong feelings of compassion. However, the impoverished people I know are often too stressed to be so kind - they are frequently too focused on survival or completely dissociated.
Another type of poverty glamorization is that of the “starving artist” or bohemian lifestyle, often glorified in popular culture as necessary for creating great work. Most proclaiming this identity that I know of in reality come from wealthy families and nowadays enjoy wearing the jersey of Napoli’s football team. I’d wager that if they encountered someone actually from the Spanish Quarters of Naples, they’d run scared, thinking they were about to be robbed. For example, I recall an interview where Giuliano Calza, the owner and creative director of GCDS, portrayed a history of struggling artists who could barely make ends meet while working in China. However, it then came to light that while born in Naples, he took piano lessons and also earned a Master’s from Bocconi University in Milan, one of the most prestigious universities worldwide. He is one of many doing the same. The latest example is Victoria Beckham trying to portray herself as someone who had a struggling childhood.
There seems to be a tendency to downplay the good fortune some have experienced in life. Perhaps that stems from the current “privilege” discourse, where all seem occupied measuring their own level of privilege, flagellating themselves for being born lucky or pleading for pity while boasting of it. Poverty becomes a badge of honour for the impoverished and a stigma for the wealthy. The effect is rich kids robbing poor kids even of the pride of being scrappy underdogs who made it. Where’s the fun in all this? It may just be further proof that in an era where social mobility remains problematic - with the poor staying poor and the rich getting richer - the wealthy also expropriate the stories of the underprivileged, taking even their pride. Sad, because when you want better for yourself than your parents provided, as I know firsthand, you search desperately for inspiration wherever you can find it, lacking it in the two people who brought you into this world.
Parassite, in my humble opinion the best movie I have ever seen on poverty and social class.
The Ballerina farm phenomenon explained: she makes her own bread and works on a farm but she’s married to someone whose daddy founded a multimillion-dollar airline and owns a stove that costs more than 10k.
Vilma Djala
Good food for thought. I believe this trend originated from the democratic idea of each person being able to reach anything in life. Since this rarely happens, and the increasing amount of middle-class people pushes the so-called positioning assets to higher levels (making them more unreacheable), the celebration of poverty becomes a way to exorcise failure or the simple fact that life is normal for most of the people and exceptional only for few (thanks to their skills, personal wealth or luck). Social media are amplifying this phenomenon