Saskia Kirkegaard unpacks what we associate with being ‘cool’, exploring the adolescent view on how we should act and examining her changing perspective.

As a tween and teen with undiagnosed ADHD, I knew I didn’t have what it took to be cool. The cool of my teenage years was tied up with the mysterious girl persona, a silent observer, disaffected and disinterested in her surroundings. She’s contemptuous, she’s bored, and when she has to speak, every word is laced with cynicism. Think Effy Stonem, who doesn’t speak for the entirety of the first eight episodes in series one of Skins. This choice was inspired by Clara Bow’s character in It, a silent film which is responsible for the term ‘it girl’, defined by Matthew Schneier as someone who is “famous for being young, famous for being fun, famous for being famous’. I first watched Skins at thirteen, illegally, and although I didn’t find myself affected by a lot of the (now perceived to be rather questionable) portrayals of teenagerdom on the show, there was one message I internalised – it is not cool to be enthusiastic.

Given my ADHD, I am someone who is generally very enthusiastic. I get very excited about the things I am interested in, especially when I am hyper-fixating on them. In January, I took up knitting, and anyone who knows me in real life knows that I still talk about it constantly. In fact, I talk about most things constantly. If something is interesting to me, I will not shut up about it. So, you can see the harsh disconnect I found myself facing upon realising that I truly did not possess that elusive, mysterious, ironic quality that one has to have to be considered cool. In a world of Effys, I was, unfortunately, a Pandora.

This realisation led to a spiral, and throughout my teenage years I became obsessive about being cool. It was probably the word that most appears in my diaries from these years. I spent hours stalking girls in my year on social media, in awe of the quality they held that allowed them cool status. I wasn’t ever able to achieve what I was going for. I would walk to school, promising myself I would be mysterious today, that I would put on my ‘normal’ mask (AHEM neurodivergence AHEM) and not talk to anyone in form-time. Of course, the second I entered the classroom, I would instantly forget this vow and immediately start incessantly chatting. Other people definitely caught on to my enthusiasm. A distinct year nine memory is being told by a classmate, “you know, you don’t have to sing when we go to our lockers. It’s a bit weird.” I was instantly shot down, realising that others had noticed and perceived my piercing enthusiasm as deeply uncool. I stopped singing, and never sang around my classmates again. Looking back, I’m quite thankful she told me to stop this, it was probably mortifying for everyone else, but I had been blissfully unaware until that point that my inordinate joy at being able to go and get our things from our lockers was actually annoying for other people. The word cool began to haunt me, colliding with the various depressive episodes that characterised teenagerdom for me, meaning a lot of my self-loathing came from this place of uncool – I felt like I would never fit in, would never be taken seriously, would never ever be an ‘it girl’. It was agony.

I went through many phases from 13-17, and all of them were tied up with being cool. I tried very very very hard to be perceived this way. I got into music, and found bands like The Smiths, Radiohead, and Le Tigre, which all represented this eternal brand of coolness I couldn’t quite reach. At 17 I dyed my hair red and got a nose piercing, both emblematic of teenage rebellion. I still knew I would never get away with being cool; I still didn’t have that missing quality. I couldn’t help but express my passion for things I really loved – I was obsessed with musical theatre, and would devour the soundtracks to Heathers and Hamilton until I knew all the words. I loved reading, and was constantly piping up in English lessons with comments about the books we were studying. I was open about my passions, I was loud, and annoying, and undignified, and even though I tried to be mysterious, these qualities always managed to escape entrapment, like a jack-in-the-box. In the end, I had to embrace my enthusiasm, and came to university with it trailing behind me loudly.

Fortunately, coming to university further helped me embrace this, as I realised that most people around me had also given up worrying about appearing cool. I met people as enthusiastic as me, and also realised I was neurodivergent, which began another wave of embracing the fact that I was unable to be quiet about the things I loved. My most meaningful realisations during my time at university have revolved around my fear of being perceived – that it doesn’t matter what my body looks like, that it’s more than okay to show you care about people, that my friends actually like my enthusiasm for the things I love. Compassion, kindness, and intrigue are qualities that I have actually begun to consider cool. And other people feel this way too!

Enthusiasm over hobbies and interests is no longer this hidden thing for the cool girls I follow, in fact they actively embrace it. Iris Law, daughter of Jude Law, meets Schneier’s criteria for an ‘it girl’ – she is famous for being young, fun, and famous. But she is not ironic and disaffected. Her TikTok is a treasure trove of tiny things she gets pleasure from, such as intricate recipes for matcha and convoluted papaya bowls. When fans recreate these concoctions, she comments before most people have seen the video, asking “wait did you acc think it was yummy? Cause i acc like it so much”. Law is not afraid to show her enthusiasm for the little things that make her happy, suggesting there has been a quiet revolution against the Effy Stonem model of cool. Tavi Gevinson was listed as an ‘It girl’ by The Cut, and she is one of the main people who helped me embrace my weirdness, as an avid reader of Rookie Mag in my teen years – she is massively enthusiastic about art, fashion, and culture, and taught 2010s teens that this was okay.

It is difficult to understand whether this is a cultural shift, or simply because I’m growing older and perhaps care less about ‘cool’, but I would argue that enthusiastic cool is prominent on the internet, particularly on TikTok. A friend I spoke to on the issue thought that this might be because, unlike Tumblr (which heralded all things nerdy in a very private, anonymous way), users of TikTok have to show their faces when expressing passions about their niche interests, meaning they have to face the embarrassment of being found on the platform through confidence. Years ago, you were allowed to like anime in secret, on a blog followed by three people and a bot, whereas now your irls will find your anime TikTok account within an hour of it being made (through the ‘this user is in your contacts’ feature), so you might as well just own it. And THAT is cool.

I asked my 18-year-old cousin if she felt that the meaning of cool has changed for her peers and she answered that it “depends on who you’re around” but that “when someones [sic] enthusiastic and passionate about something its [sic] quite infectious, whereas if they’re embarrassed about liking something people will latch onto that uncertainty and will think it’s less cool than if you just own it”. She personally thinks it’s “cool to be interested in ‘weird’ or more niche things”, and I agree!

I am so glad that the rules around cool are beginning to change, with ‘weirdness’ and passion becoming synonymous with confidence, a quality that coolness has always been associated with. Instead of appearing disinterested, silent, and cynical, you can now be outspoken, joyous, and enthusiastic, and still be considered cool! I am so grateful that this climate appears to be changing, and these qualities are now being accepted into the aura of it girls, even if my teenage self couldn’t quite access this herself. Unlocking this next wave of cool might bring us closer to the realisation that cool doesn’t even really matter, and the most important thing (cringe but ultimately apt statement alert!) is to be yourself…