The Beauty Of Being A Freak: People Will Stare, Make It Worth Their While

by Zara Barrie

Harry Winston once famously stated, “People will stare, make it worth their while.” I find this quote to be the golden crown jewel of truth and validation for all of us self-identified FREAKS.

For we are the gorgeous life enhancers of the world, dusting the landscape of the earth with our dazzling micro-glitter and stimulating the masses with our ever-shining glow of authenticity.

You might be wondering: Who the f*ck does this girl thinks she is, throwing around such a controversial, emotionally-loaded word like FREAK around with the same frivolity as yesterday’s laundry?

See, I’ve come to realize “freak” is a negative word for most, but today we’re going to challenge that tired theory because it’s over simplistic and bland as f*cking dishwater.

A freak is a person of great exquisiteness, and I take being deemed a freak by society as the utmost compliment.

It’s time for us bonafide whack jobs, subversive sexual deviants, fashion weirdos and all those who dare to color outside the repressive lines of the cultural norm to OWN our fabulously freaky selves.

Once we embrace our inner-freak — release her from the cage and let her run wild in the park, we come to find there is so much BEAUTY in being a FREAK.

Freaks provide visual stimulation for the world

“Why is everyone staring at us?” my best friend Eduardo rhetorically asked me amidst a midday shopping expedition to a suburban Whole Foods.

Before the three words “I don’t know” had a chance to mindlessly escape my ox-blood red lips, I caught a glimpse of our reflection in the Plexiglas window.

Eduardo’s head was adorned in an Indian pink turban, and expertly draped over his delicate frame was a woman’s maxi dress turned bohemian caftan.

Wrapped around his wrist was an unapologetically neon yellow and magenta Alexander McQueen skull scarf while his thumb and forefinger firmly clutched an awesomely obvious knock-off Hermès Birkin bag.

I, on the other hand, was clad in hazardous, silver-spiked mega platform boots and a painfully shiny holographic purse shaped like a unicorn.

In a suburban sea made up of organic-produce shopping MILFs, wearing Lululemon leggings and oversized Tory Burch tote bags, to say we “stood out” would be but a great understatement.

It was in that very moment I had the life-changing epiphany: I would never water down my style for anyone ever again.

See, Eduardo and I, clad in our favorite freak attire, served as the sparkling rhinestones in an otherwise bleakly un-accessorized store.

Customers’ lives were temporarily enhanced by our vibrant, reckless self-expression. We freaks were strengthening the beauty of grey, dismal suburbia.

What would the unimaginative masses do without us?

A freak's life is an artistic masterpiece

One of the most beautiful freaks I’ve been lucky enough to encounter in my 20-something years is my wild and wonderful dear friend, Taryn.

Taryn and I first laid eyes on one another a decade back while chain smoking cigarettes on the roof deck of a high school freak party – I’ve been enamored of her intoxicating energy ever since.

She’s the perfect example of a fabulous freak of nature who has made her entire life a canvas for self-expression.

Like all fully-realized freaks, she does whatever the f*ck her creative mind so desires, whether it be posting provocative nude pictures of herself, styling her budding rock star friends with her outrageous collection of rare vintage finds, embarking on camping expeditions in the California wilderness or singing her husky heart out on stage in downtown Los Angeles.

Taryn makes her living from modeling handcrafted headdresses for art students and being a makeup artist on the set of porn movies and indie films.

She wholeheartedly embraces her unconventional spirit and never questions her creative impulses.

When we make peace with the awesome fact that we are, indeed, FREAKS, our lives singlehandedly become a work of art, a creative masterpiece colored by the beauty of fierce individuality.

Freak love is pure love

There is nothing quite so romantic as observing two freaks deliriously in love. Freak love is the purest love.

Let’s dare to delve into the crux of the truth: We’re all f*cking freaks, here. Some of us are repressed freaks; some of us are out and loud and proud while some of us are still in the transitional period of coming into our own freakiness.

Real love can only flourish when rooted in the firm soil of honesty.

Self-accepting freaks are in touch with themselves and don't paint over their true colors. They’ve got nothing in the world to hide.

When two freaks fall in love, they’re falling in love with the authenticity of their partner. No secrets, no games, no surprises.

No stupid preconceived notions, no repressive relationship "timelines," no unspoken rules.

It's two full-throttle wackos doing whatever feels GOOD and RIGHT.

A freak is fearless to feel

Freaks are the most legitimately happy souls gracing the planet. Freaks are fearless to make fools of themselves. They're having more fun than anyone else.

A freak is unabashedly dancing on the table while everyone else is feeling self-conscious, pretending to furiously text on their phones in attempts to mask their social discomfort.

Freaks have graciously accepted their flaws and refuse to get caught up in the endless, soul-sucking battle of attaining absolute "perfection."

They understand perfection is f*cking boring, and freaks detest anything that even remotely resembles mediocrity.

They’re fantastically bold, secure in their personality and infectiously all-embracing about everything LIFE has to offer: the dark and the light, the good and the bad.

They’re the very opposite of indifferent — they feel deeply. In this detached digital age, it feels f*cking good to feel.

Freaks don't care about making you comfortable

People will forever gawk at anyone who is deemed different. It's a life truth we can't escape or change, so we might as really give the population something to LOOK at.

As Simon Doonan once said,

Why the hell wouldn’t you want to be one of the fabulous people, the life enhancers, the people who look interesting and smell luscious and who dare to be gorgeously more fascinating than their neighbors?

Let's have f*cking BLAST being our weird selves. It’s not our job to make the population feel more secure and comfortable by living within the confines of their definitions.