Danny Zuko and Perceptions of Coolness

There was this really cool French kid once – outfitted in Maison Kitsuné and round tortoise shell glasses and tall with a cute accent. We had lunch together a few times at his cafeteria and sat next to each other in class. Romantic freshman dates. He was fun to text, mostly about class and cracking jokes about first year Rotman kids, but whenever we were face to face he’d go silent. I felt like I was interrogating him just trying to hold a conversation. Finally, I gave up, and started sitting in the front of the class where I could pay better attention. I decided he was too cool for me anyway.

Why did I think this? What even is coolness? At the root of the word is its connection with temperature. Cool is somewhere in the middle, level, neither hot nor cold. Connected to this “in between-ness” is the aloofness so characteristic of and associated with “cool” people. “Cool” people aren’t passionate. They take things as they come and keep floating on never showing any extreme emotion – love, hate, despondence, etc. Think of Danny Zuko in Grease. It isn’t cool to be in love, to admit you’re head over heels for some girl you met over summer vacation. When he sees Sandy again in the parking lot after the pep rally, there’s his initial “uncool” reaction of surprise, joy, excitement before he quickly regains his composure in order to maintain his image and status. Stemming from this lack of passion is also a sense of mystery. As humans, passion and emotion are central to our identities. Everyone has interests and hobbies and quirks that make them an individual. If someone notably doesn’t show any passion, we can only assume it’s because they’re hiding it, not because it doesn’t exist.

The “cool” brand of the fashion industry, Hedi Slimane’s Saint Laurent, has been extremely successful commercially; sales rose 29% in the second quarter of 2014. From critics however, Slimane has received mixed reviews. They question how “fashion” the line actually is. Some have noted how each collection seems incredibly similar to the previous one, the sex, drugs, and rock n’ roll aesthetic always present on the perennially leggy, pouty models. Others note Slimane’s toying with the ideas of appropriation and transformation in fashion and art. Despite the backlash, Saint Laurent has garnered a “cool” reputation. Others are attracted to them “commercially”, as they market themselves, as they appear. However, when inspected for depth, any passion and meaning remains elusive.

  



Saint Laurent and Zuko share more than their aloof demeanor. Aesthetically, they agree that leather and black compose the uniform de rigueur.

     

 
Coolness is admired. Just as Saint Laurent draws customers with its cool vibes, whenever you hear someone being called “cool” it’s meant in a positive way. We’re attracted to cool people - their detached air makes them seem like they know what they’re about, what they’re after in life. It seems confident, and that’s always attractive. Again with Zuko – all his buddies are drawn to him and unquestionably regard him as the “leader” of their group because of his coolness. And even after their breakup, Rizzo is still attracted to him and resentful that goody-two-shoes Sandy has caught his eye. But this attraction can only go so far. In order to get to know someone, both parties have to be willing to open up, discuss more personal details- preferences, interests, dreams, and goals. In essence, this “cool” image needs to vanish. In order to relate and bond with other people, we need to expose what makes us human, our strengths and our flaws. The more intimately you get to know someone who initially seemed “cool”, the less this image will persist and the more they’ll just seem human with different individual traits.

            The question then is where to find a balance. How to present yourself knowing that while coolness will draw people toward you, it’ll also keep them at a distance. Being notably “uncool” (but thus very relatable) will also draw people to you, but more selectively . These will be the people that have similar passions and quirks and interests as you as opposed to a more general mass. To simplify, how important is “coolness”? Personally, I’d say it’s attractive and it’s fun to play at. But it’s not actually of any importance.  Of course, every person will have her own take on this.

Danny Zuko totally wigging out.            

Grease ends in a compromise- Sandy gains a “cool” image complete with a perm, a cigarette, and black pants you could read a credit card number through. For his end, Danny tries to play the less cool role of the jock before revealing his “uncoolness”, without having to pretend, by pretty much drooling over Sandy and loudly admitting “I’ve got chills- they’re multiplying”.

What a babe.

This post is obviously completely my opinion, derived from personal experiences and observations. Different experience will lead to differing views. What do you think coolness is? Are there any specific parts you agree or disagree with or am I just horribly confused? I look forward to your input.

- Galit