Why Trash Films are Important

 

The year is 2012. As you take your first, tentative step into the Year Seven common room on the fourth of September, a wild-eyed classmate sprints up to your face and asks those three words that will decide your entire high-school fate.

“Edward or Jacob?”

Inner turmoil ensues.

In the ‘big world’ (for, you see, that consists of Hollister and Gilly Hicks at the moment), you’ve heard the big, adult fifteen year olds declare Twilight “so, like, uncool”. Therefore, by proxy, to keep with the times, you should too turn up your nose at this heathen even considering to ask which camp you fall under. Just imagine the pure power that comes with having the same opinion as a Year Ten! The thrill that would only send you straight to the top of the heap; Head Girl, here I come!

As you open your mouth to utter the sacred, ‘actually, Twilight enforces the myth that men can objectify and claim women, therefore I would rather refrain from passing judgement at this moment,’ before walking away with a sassy hair flick out of strangely cheesy-scented air, something deep inside you stirs.

Am I Edward? Or Jacob?

Sure, it would be nice to keep up with those older kids – they can use takeaway boxes, for crying out loud! – hasn’t the only thing keeping you sane through the immense stress of Year Six SATs been your fandoms? That feeling of sorority as you and your best friend agreed that Taylor Lautner’s wig, frankly, deserved to burn, and that Cedric Diggory deserved better still pervades within you. Shouldn’t Mandy Moore be repaid for all her hard work during those dark 00s of glittery eyeshadow and over plucked eyebrows?

Yes, you decide. You will not let them get the better of you. Your love for Stephenie Meyer (with an e, not an a, thank you) will be spoken aloud, whether or not you are cast aside and crushed under the swell of pre-teen trends.

You gather in a deep breath, before proudly proclaiming,

“Edward”

Your classmate’s face stills for a moment. This is it, you think. Day one in the real world, and I have already committed social suicide. You slink gently behind a locker, before you hear,

“Oh my GOD! Me TOO!”

The relief is immense. You bond immediately over the friend zone doesn’t exist (so back OFF, Jacob!) and how Bella deserves better than two men who have no other interest than her delightful blandness that you so wish to embody one day.

You realise then.

Twilight saved your life.