By Emilia Lun, 16, Kantonsschule Ausserschwyz, Freienbach, Switzerland
Emilia Lun, 16, thinks the Mona Lisa is one of three beloved cultural staples that “secretly deserve a little side-eye.”Credit...Christophe Ena/Associated Press
The whispers start, the expectations build, and the crowd leans in. Then BAM! It’s that moment when everyone nods in forced agreement, pretending to love the thing. Some cultural staples survive on pure hype. Are we scared of being judged? Or just suffering from FOMO? With honesty, skepticism, and a touch of rebellion, here’s my unapologetically biased review of three beloved things that secretly deserve a little side-eye.
The Mona Lisa (Art)
I stood in line at the Louvre, craning my neck for a glimpse. People jostled, cameras flashed, anticipation built. And then — there she was. Small. Fenced off. Looking like a perfectly fine painting that somehow tricked the world into obsession. Sure, it’s a masterpiece. Sure, she’s got that enigmatic smile. But after battling crowds and staring at her for a solid five seconds, I thought, This? This is the big deal?
Maybe it’s the centuries of hype, or maybe I just don’t get Renaissance art, but the Mona Lisa feels less like a mind-blowing cultural experience and more like a glorified scavenger hunt item. Find the painting. Take the photo. Pretend your life is changed. Meanwhile, the Winged Victory of Samothrace is chilling a few rooms away, radiating power and grace without unnecessary drama. Why isn’t she getting the same love?
Avocado Toast (Restaurants/Fashion Statement?)
I love a good avocado — especially before it turns brown in 0.2 seconds. It’s creamy, versatile, and guacamole-essential. But slap it on toast, drizzle some artisanal olive oil, and suddenly it’s a personality trait? And worse — fifteen dollars? For bread with a spread?
Avocado toast has become the ultimate brunch flex. There’s an unspoken rule that ordering it makes you trendy, healthy, and effortlessly cool — or at least, your Instagram followers will think so. Over the years, we’ve seen elevated versions: topped with chili flakes, poached eggs, edible flowers — whatever justifies the price. And yet, when my friends suggest brunch, I find myself ordering it again, because, well, isn’t that what I’m supposed to do? If brunch were a performance, avocado toast would be the overpriced ticket to an average show.
Standing Ovations (Theater)
Picture this: You’re at a play. The lights go down. Everyone claps. Fair enough. But then, at the end, even if the show was fine at best, the entire audience suddenly leaps to their feet like they just witnessed Shakespeare reincarnated. Why? Peer pressure.
The social contract of standing ovations is real. I’ve clapped for performances where I didn’t even understand the plot, just to avoid looking like a soulless monster. Once, at a local production, my friend leaned over and whispered, “What’s happening?” I shrugged, stood up, and clapped along — because heaven forbid we be the only two people left sitting.
At this point, standing ovations feel obligatory. Was the acting good? Meh. Costumes decent? Sure. Did the audience still launch out of their seats as if spring-loaded? Absolutely. Honestly, the real standing ovation should go to the brave souls who dare to remain seated.
These cultural darlings prove one thing: Hype doesn’t always equal happiness. Sometimes, it’s okay to admit you’re unimpressed. So next time someone gushes over avocado toast, the Mona Lisa, or an automatic standing ovation, remember: It’s perfectly fine to say, I don’t get it. The crowd might judge you, but at least you’ll be the only one standing (or, in this case, sitting) in your truth.