What’s in a name? // For the love of labels

 

 

It’s a truth universally acknowledged that any self respecting Bar hopper when confronted with the problem “what will you drink?” looks at the bar menu like he were Narcissus staring at the abyss, almost staging an act of deep thought and introspection! And think we must because in many ways the bar is actually a fantastical plane of mirth- a metaphorical realm which gives you a chance to live out your fantasy and be what you really are or maybe who you think you are. Frankly, If Shakespeare wrote plays today, the lovers wouldn’t be running off to the forest but would just swagger into a bar to bring about that magical transformation!

Every one of us is in a continuous flux of metamorphosis brought about in part by the everyday naming and renaming, that is- of being bae, the beauty, the brains, the bon vivant, etc. In fact, these very words become in many ways, parts of the whole that we are. The trouble is that most of the time these labels although coveted by us, are bestowed by the people around us. And the thing about labels is love them or hate them everybody wants to wear them! However, if you take a peak at what really lies underneath the stacked layers of labels, carefully peeling off every moniker one by one, in the end you might find the individual naked as if “uncovered” stripped of all the names and labels.

So what does it mean when a woman who OD’D on sex and the city (sidetone: a self-confessed Carrie… shh) gleefully guzzles Cosmopolitans with her girl gang? or when a young gentleman just wouldn’t have anything but the good Old Fashioned with a straight face of course and what about the ones who order a sex on the beach and giggle like they made the request in between the act! It seems as if the drinking party has borrowed an essence of the drink that enables them to play a part in some personal fantasy and experiences something much like the rapture and delight that Narcissus underwent seeing his own visage in the abyss.

In this light, the Bar becomes a space where people actually get to pick the label they want to wear; and no judgment to the lots of Ms Cosmopolitan and Mr Old Fashioned because self definition is in fact one of the primary goals of an individual. And specially in a world that continuously prescribes- what you ought to be or just conform and adapt to the norm day in and day out, the act of choosing for yourself becomes an act of rebellion. So, next time you’re at a bar serving an introspective look while staring at the menu CHOOSE not only what you drink but who you want to be- for a night at least.

Well as for me I’ll have an Empress of the f*cking world!

Cheers

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