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Good afternoon,
 
and BUCKLE UP for the fortnightly Steve Harrington Fan Club newsletter. Ha ha! I kid! But also, I don't! I love him! 
 
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I've actually been thinking about fans a lot this week: and before you say it, no, not because of the heat we've been experiencing; the other type of fan. Firstly, because it's time to knuckle down and work on the dissertation of my part-time Master's, and I'm going to do something about the treatment of fangirls in the media. Secondly, because Running Up That Hill (Deal With God) hit Number 1, and with it – unfortunately but predictably – a wave of comments from older music fans shitting on how younger people came to find it. Thirdly, because my entire TikTok was full of HSLOT videos (❤), and I was comparing myself to all the outfits there, despite the fact I wasn't even able to go. And fourthly, because we're rewatching Stranger Things 1-3 (in advance of aforementioned 4 part 2 next week) and the running commentary from me thus far has just been, “Oh my god, I don't remember that happening! Or that…or that…”
 
The first two go without saying: a unique blend of misogyny, patronisation, and music snobbery - case closed. But the third and fourth felt more personal.
 
There was a time when to show my love for something, I deepdived (deep-dove?) on it. I could tell you random trivia, a walking IMDb entry. I learnt lyrics off by heart, rehearsing them with military precision over and over til they were etched in my brain. I was Mastermind-ready at any given time. In fact, come to think of it, my phone passcode is still one of the One Direction members' audition numbers, because best practice suggests you use a number that is significant but isn't a birthday or special date, and I knew that I'd be able to remember it.
 
But that's pretty much the only vestige of this that's left: my approach has changed. Not because of an active choice - because there are moments when I catch myself feeling like less of a fan of something for not even knowing certain facts, plot lines or other details in the first place, never mind being able to recall them - but because of, you know, life. 13 year old Ellie would be mortified by the lack of rigour that 26 year old Ellie takes with things that she loves, and would be so dismayed at what she perceived as a distinct lack of care. Plus, let's face it: she'd definitely ask her to name 5 of their albums.
 
But I have to keep reminding myself that it's not a lack of care. Being a fan of something is not a competition (unless that something is the real, human Squid Game that's been announced…) Being a fan of something is about the feeling it gives you, the fire it lights, the connection it sparks. Being a fan is the state of flow it puts you into, the fun it brings, the soul nourishment it provides. It's the things that are felt, and therefore can't always be quantified. 
 
Being a fan is looking at hot pink feathers on the steps of Leeds train station, and thinking “God I hope they had the time of their life”, rather than feeling bad that you'd have never been able to attempt such an incredible concert outfit.  
 
There was a tweet doing the rounds a few weeks ago that said ‘can we normalise saying we love a book without remembering anything about it’, with the first reply being ‘"whats ur favourite part?" the vibes'. And this is the energy I'm trying to take forward. 
 
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Phew! Now that that's all covered, here's a little window into what I'm enthusiastic about at the moment…
 
 
Love Ellie xo
 
 
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