I have numerous pieces of writing in my drafts related to stan culture. And while I’ve alluded to it in various newsletters relating to buzzword-ified cultural phenomena like queer-baiting, I have yet to compose a piece wholly dedicated to the convoluted state of online fandoms. This is largely because it’s challenging to put how I feel about the stan community into words. I’ve been a part of it. I’ve observed it up close and from afar. I’ve been amazed, terrified, and overall fascinated by the collective power everyday people have online and to what ends they choose to use it.
My personal stan journey began with a complete and utter obsession with One Direction in middle school. I discovered the boyband in fifth grade (fifth grade!) when a classmate of mine slipped me her corded earbud on the school bus and played me “What Makes You Beautiful.” Over the next year, my YouTube search history filled with entries like “One Direction concert,” “One Direction interview,” “One Direction funny moments part 26,” and much more. I had soon been indoctrinated by the social media algorithms of the 2010s and before I knew it all of the content on my feed was photos and videos of five British singers.
Most interestingly, and what many fans would likely agree with, is that being a stan wasn’t necessarily as fun as it was because of the artists, but because of the community that sprouted from them. The “prosumer”-made fan art, fan fiction, and fan cams all contributed to the ethos of One Direction. The thousands of other stans I met online and myself were all co-authors, penning the success of these strangers. If it weren’t for the stan-fueled narratives, five otherwise normal people wouldn't have become world-class popstars.
I’ve been thinking a lot about narratives and the stories stans construct during the aftermath of Harry Styles’ Album of the Year Grammy win. As a disclaimer that I often give in stan-related excerpts of my writing: I’ve been somewhat of a Styles stan myself. I’m not as big of a follower of his as I used to be, though it’s not challenging to know what’s new with the popstar with how little he shares on social media. However, I’ve been to a few of his concerts, streamed his albums, and grimaced my way through Don’t Worry Darling (2022), so I’m still undoubtedly a follower.
His Grammy win came as a shock to pop music lovers everywhere who believe Beyoncé’s album RENAISSANCE (2022) was snubbed - an opinion I agree with wholeheartedly. In my opinion, Styles’ win is emblematic of the power of cultural and historical narrative in constructing a false reality that the masses deem to be real. Stick with me here.
Throughout modern history, narratives have played a role in the establishment and endurance of popular values and norms. This is the case because ideas need some level of justification in order to get off the ground and be adopted into the lives of the masses. And narratives, often backed by pseudoscience and religious sentiment, operate as palatable, emotion-laden snapshots of truth to be used to back up extreme action.
In my last blog post on hierarchies, I alluded to the manifest destiny narratives that were co-opted by American colonists when they robbed indigenous people of their land and enslaved African people to develop their own settlements. In The Age of Homespun: Objects and Stories in the Creation of an American Myth, author Laura Thatcher Ulrich explains how narratives about objects and activities related to homemaking and thread spinning backed up the hierarchical division of labor between men and women in the pre-Industrial world. And in the post-Industrial world of the American mid-20th century, advertisements for cleaning and cooking products featuring pearl and red lipstick-clad housewives served their own narrative purpose: telling the country how happy women were to lack financial independence and work in the home.
Importantly, narratives are constantly being recycled. Told in new ways to provide fresh justifications for the same dusty beliefs. The story of the mid-century housewife, for instance, is being re-told via Tik Tok purists claiming an essential division between “divine feminine” and “divine masculine” energy, hanging their biological essentialist hats not on facts, but on “vibes.”
Also importantly, I think many are drawn to spin narratives about what they don’t know. This fact is especially glaring when one looks at the way narratives have been used to justify maltreatment and violence towards marginalized groups of people throughout history. When a person approaches an unknown terrain, it’s like being handed a block of clay. They’re then able to mold that block of clay how they deem fit, imbuing it with their own values and experiences. Architecting their own story.
It’s easy to think about how we do this with people that we meet in our personal lives. When we develop a crush on somebody, we will in the gaps of their own personality with our own fantasy. We assume that they’re the kindest, funniest, and most charming individual to ever exist, transcribing our own bias onto their perception. Eventually, as we get to know the person better, we’re exposed to aspects of their personality that defy our expectations, some things that we grow to love and others that challenge us. When we meet a new person at a party and experience an unsavory first impression, we do the complete opposite. We often only see the worst in them until we are eventually exposed to their more redeeming, human qualities.
The bottom line is: narratives rule our lives. And as novelist Chimamanada Ngozi Adichie says, “when we show a people as one thing, over and over again… that is what they become.” Only listening to a single story means only listening to a stereotype, and stereotypes are incomplete and often untrue.
It’s challenging to not get stuck in a single narrative. We’ve been taught that there’s value in having integrity, which involves holding strong and just morals. But if we don’t allow our brains the chance to be more fluid, receptive to different interpretations of reality, we get caught in a delusion.
When it comes to the people that we place on pedestals - both public figures and intimate companions - it’s hard not to subscribe to the single story of who they should be and what they should look and act like. When searching for a romantic partner on a dating app, people swipe and swipe until they stumble upon a face and list of traits that most closely align with the romantic narrative they have composed in their mind.
And when it comes to identifying good artists and great artists, it’s challenging to discern the two when we’re only reading the surface narrative. Seeing the sparkly outfits, the waved flags, the vague gestures to themes without any sense of structure. We see those things and then we see the versions of great artists that have reigned supreme in the past and delegate the trophy accordingly.
During Harry’s acceptance speech, he - a white, rich, cisgender man - proclaimed that “this doesn’t happen to people like [him] very often.” Being handed an award for an uninventive contribution to an industry in which women have been historically exploited and berated for taking creative risks is not some kind of new phenomenon. It’s the same old narrative we’ve always been told. Just in a sparkly jumpsuit.
I don’t think Harry’s House (2022) would have gotten the acclaim it received if it weren’t for the power of privilege and popular narratives fueling his ethos as an artist. Harry Styles is the artist he is because of the artist that his supporters have made him out to be. Strip him of the doting supporters and you’re left with a heartbroken wealthy white boy in a funky outfit, putting out album after album that have all the good vibes in the world without saying anything too specific about anything. This isn’t to say that the Grammys mean much anymore and that Harry Styles’ music and sense of artistry is necessarily bad. It just rings hollow. Particularly when stacked against bodies of work like RENAISSANCE (2022), that pay clear and concrete homage to marginalized communities, tell important stories, all while etching out a distinct and joyful sound. Substance and vibes coalesce!
When we base our narratives of greatness on narratives we’ve always been told about what real “disruption” in sound and appearance is, we risk closing our minds to important transformation. When we choose to fill in the holes of a body of work - an album - with our own substantive narratives, it can bring the work much closer to us. And in some cases, elevate it beyond its bounds, even overshadowing substantive art in its wake.
For more on the politics and privilege surrounding this Grammy win, check out this article from irene’s Newsletter.
"It’s the same old narrative we’ve always been told. Just in a sparkly jumpsuit." 🙌🙌🙌🙌
Excellent , he needs to hear this ! Still so irritated he cancelled his concert 1 hour before we arrived after flying down . He knew .