Don’t Feel Guilty for Your Pleasures: Why the Concept of Guilty Pleasure is Outdated
By Features Editor Chloe Barrett
To revise the infamous phrase “guilty pleasure” into “comfort (insert item here)” is, in my opinion, an awesome reinvention. The implication of guilt, which is itself synonymous with an act of wrongdoing, has no place in food or the consumption of media. Why on earth should you feel bad for rereading your favourite book or indulging in a snack? It simply makes no sense. Especially if said pleasure makes you feel in any way at ease, or to explain it in a more straightforward term: if indulging in such an activity makes you happy.
There also should be no feeling of embarrassment or shame on your behalf over your chosen comfort. There is a stigma surrounding literature specifically, that deems if your comfort read is not a critically acclaimed novel with lyrical prose, your choice is invalid. I think that is a ridiculous concept. Sometimes the most simplistic and nostalgic piece of media that you indulged in during your childhood can be a staple in who you have become today. Oftentimes, it can transform into the feeling of a reassuringly cosy blanket that you long to wrap yourself up in after an especially difficult day. You should never feel pressured by anyone to change your likes and dislikes, and that goes for all areas of life, no matter how old you are.
Personally, the first thing that I turn to if I am having a tough time, or even to just use for background noise while I am writing an essay, is Twilight. While I adore the books, sometimes I am not in the headspace to settle down for a few hours and read. Instead, I play my special 10th anniversary edition DVD, and let my brain become numb. I usually recite those movies word to word and can identify what certain movie and specific scene that a photograph of Edward is from by judging his hair alone. I will be the first to say that they are certainly not the most eloquently written books or excellently directed movies. However, that does not diminish what they mean for me. I used to be embarrassed when a twelve-year-old me was asked for her favourite movie. Now, I am a twenty-one-year-old adult who wrote a thirty-page thesis on female adolescence and agency in the Twilight series for her undergraduate degree. And my amazing friends supported me throughout the entire project, and never laughed at my astute fangirl observations regarding Edward being creepy. It was taken in stride and accepted as a part of who I am as a person. After all, what is the point of a friendship if you cannot be yourself around somebody who you love? You should not have to hide who you are, and I am predicting that whoever that is, you are fantastic.
I wanted to ask some of the fellow Express team what their personal comfort was, alongside a brief explanation as to why it is special to them. Our ever so wonderful and talented Film and TV Editor, Mia, kindly shared hers:
“As Film and TV Editor at the Express, I naturally think a lot about what I choose to watch. Since there’s so much cinema and television out there, and I only have so much time, I get caught up in thinking that I have to spend it on a classic film from the 1960s or a prestige TV show from the 2000s that I’ve yet to get around to watching. And so, it can be difficult to justify to myself that ridiculous Channel 4 shows like Come Dine with Me and Four in a Bed are worthy of my time. But truthfully, I get so much enjoyment out of them, even if I feel like I’m missing out on watching something ‘important’ instead. However, I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t try to make the case for why they’re actually good, so here it is: I genuinely believe that Come Dine with Me and Four in a Bed are ripe for sociological examination. They may present themselves as being about who’s the best at cooking or whose B&B is the cleanest and has the best facilities, but they’re really about how normal people interact with each other in everyday life. And how awkward it is when you’re first getting to know people, especially if you’re all very different. And most interesting of all, especially when couples are involved, these shows are about the relationships between men and women in society. If I heard about a 1970s film with those themes, I would consider it worthy of two free hours on a Tuesday evening. So maybe I just need to change my way of thinking.”
Baneen, who is the amazing Opinion Editor on our team, kindly offered her view on the whole concept of having “Guilty Pleasures”, and quite frankly, has some amazing insights that will cut straight through your heart:
“Guilt has been ingrained into us for as long as we can remember. We are forced to feel guilty about everything, from the food that we eat to the films that we watch. When I was doing my research for this piece, I went through lists of what famous magazines classified as a ‘guilty pleasure’. Watching a sappy romance. Getting coffee in the morning. Eating fast food. I wondered to myself: Are these not the things that make life worth living? Why are we made to feel guilty for simple things that we enjoy?
“The problem again is capitalism. I believe there is a whole industry thriving off of making people guilty. You are made to feel guilty for every second used on something that is not work related and pleases you. You are not made to live, you are made to work. ‘Hustle Culture’ makes us feel as though we have to be working all the time. If you are not working, you are wasting time causing someone else a loss (time is money) and you have to feel guilty about it.
“The weight loss industry especially targeting women with things like chocolates marked “enjoy guilt free” on the packaging has made millions profiting off of making women feel guilty for what they eat. This has detrimental effects on women with the exponential rise in eating disorders in this group. More than 190,000 people in Ireland are expected to have an eating disorder in their lifetime with 85-95 per cent of these being women. Women are dying for the guilt they are made to feel with almost every choice they make.
“I saw a video a while back where the host was having a deep talk and was saying that ‘if something brings you joy, then why should you feel guilty about it?’ And it changed my whole perspective. I have been judged for the things that I enjoy and made to feel guilty about so many of my choices. But they make me happy. I like chocolate. I will always get myself a sweet treat, not because I “earned” it but because I enjoy it. I will blast that Bollywood love song, because I believe in love even if it is considered ‘stupid’ by society because it makes me feel happy and I deserve joy. I deserve to do what makes me happy, guilt free. And if there is someone who has to profit off of my life, I will make sure that it is solely me.”
The Editor in Chief, Claire, while editing this article says, “Like Chloe, I also dedicated my dissertation to my own guilty pleasure: the novels of E. M. Forster. There’s something about a 20th century novel wherein nothing happens besides people talking with vague political undertones that gets me going. Maurice is my absolute favourite: It’s a queer story that demands a happy ending when homosexuality was still illegal. What’s more, I love to collect these books. Right now, I’m looking at my desk where I have three copies of A Passage to India, two A Room with a View, two Howards End, one Longest Journey, three Maurice, two Where Angels Fear to Tread, three short story collections, two collections of essays, and two biographies. I often feel guilty about this because there’s only a few people in my life that I get to talk to about my strange taste. And when I do get to talk, it becomes a chaotic, explosive ramble. It’s my hyper-fixation and brings me so much joy and energy. I think as someone that is neurodivergent, having people blatantly dismiss my interests as ‘unimportant’ has been crushing.”
With these pieces of writing from dazzling people and my own self-indulgent Twilight rant, I implore you to, perhaps, step out of your comfort zone and discuss some of your pleasures. Remember, there is no concept of “guilt” attached, just enjoyment.
