No One Understands Me Quite Like My Best Friend…Phoebe Bridgers
In the age of the internet, phenomena and trends go in and out of style in a blink of an eye. The biggest celebrity scandal is at the top of the headlines one day and irrelevant the next. Time marches on, and social media finds a new person to become obsessed with, and then eventually hate.
Yet, one aspect of the internet, the parasocial relationship, has always been a morbid fascination for me. For those who aren’t aware, a parasocial relationship is the imagined relationship between public figures and their fans. They are subconscious bonds that we have created with celebrity figures that we like. Though this bond may sound stalkerish and damaging—and can certainly become this way—it’s not all bad. In fact, celebrities ultimately rely on this relationship with their fans, especially in the age of social media.
The more ‘relatable’ but still ‘perfectly out of touch’ a celebrity is, the more desirable they are for a parasocial relationship. We want the celebrities that we like to have flaws just like us, but not enough that they genuinely remind us of the troubles that we are going through. The relationship is an escape in which fans can feel safe projecting their affection for the public figure’s perfectly curated image. A celebrity’s image and how it’s consumed is a transaction. If they appear likable and interesting in addition to their talents, fans in return buy their merch, see them in concert, and support their endeavors.
This relationship is always one-sided. It’s a pseudo-bond. No matter how many interviews you watch, or how much you stalk their social media, if you don’t know a public figure in real life, you don’t know them personally. This may seem obvious, but our brain can easily trick us into believing that this relationship is genuine. When we forget that public figures are human beings with real flaws and the potential to make mistakes, it’s easy for us to feel personally betrayed when they don’t act in a way that we idealized them to be.
In middle school, I remember using Tumblr and being connected with a cesspool of middle school girls posting anything and everything about the celebrities they were into. As a girl who ran multiple fan accounts (as embarrassing as it is to admit), I kept tabs on accounts that did deep dives into the celebrities that I loved. I wanted to know what these celebrities were doing on a daily basis. However, I was conscious that this bond that I had with these celebrities wasn't real. Taylor Swift had secret parties with her closest fans, but that didn’t mean she was actually close with any of them. Taylor Swift wasn’t talking to me through her songs, even though it felt like it. Eventually, I grew out of fanbases. I deleted Tumblr. Once I graduated middle school, I never really thought about parasocial relationships the same way.
When the pandemic hit, no one expected to spend their college experience cooped up in their childhood bedroom. Many of my friends found themselves regressing to their childhood selves, myself included. I found myself spending hours laying on my bed, listening to Phoebe Bridgers on repeat. I discovered her for the first time in 2017, with her indie darling record Stranger in the Alps. I was drawn to her haunting melodies, frank yet personal lyrics, and often found myself laughing at her jokes on Twitter. I felt like I knew the person who sang the mournfully poetic songs I loved so deeply. Very quickly, I noticed I wasn’t alone in this feeling. Ever since the release of her album Punisher, Bridgers started to blow up. There was a part of my brain that started to feel defensive. Mostly, I was psyched that she was getting popular, but I wanted her to stay ‘my secret,’ to stay mine.
But Phoebe Bridgers isn’t ‘mine.’ Apart from the obvious fact that she belongs to no one but herself, I’ve never met her. I’ve seen her perform live, but that’s as close as I have ever been to her. Phoebe Bridgers has no idea who I am, and that’s okay.
Ironically enough, Phoebe Bridgers summed up the experience of the parasocial relationship perfectly in her song “Punisher” about her favorite artist, Eliott Smith. Even celebrities aren’t exempt from this odd part of our psyche.
“What if I told you I feel like I know you
But we never met?”