By Lead Paint

Look. Vintage things are having a moment. In storefronts, and hipsters’ shitty shoebox apartments, all you see is retro, retro, retro. And I get it! Old stuff is edgy! But now, they’re all coming back. Polaroids. Record players. Those teeny tiny sunglasses. Everything got plucked out of the chasm of history, and is magically cool again.

Everything except me.

It’s just— ugh. Ok. Look. Ok. I’m not upset. I just don’t get it! I’m hip! I’m fun! I’m great at brightening up a space! Not so long ago, everyone wanted me in their house. They loved me. They showered me with lots of really nice praise, like “wow, lead paint, you’re so fresh and durable!” and, “wow, lead paint, you’re so great with kids!” And then, BAM! Dumped. Ditched. Duped. Nobody would talk to me anymore, or hang out with me, or put their face really close to me and inhale deeply. I was alone. And now, all of a sudden, record players get a comeback because they’re “authentic,” while I’m still here twiddling my thumbs because I’m “outdated,” and “illegal,” and “cause significant and persistent neurological and developmental damage?” Wow. Double standard, much? Unbelievable. 

And the worst part? Sometimes I feel like I’m the only one who’s still left out. I mean, they brought back high waisted jeans, and measles… measles!! I’m losing to measles, you guys! You’d think bringing back polio, whooping cough, and not vaccinating your kids would be enough, but no! So when will it be my turn?

I can change. I can be trendy. I can be sold for twice my value in an Urban Outfitters to rich 15-year-old VSCO girls. We had so much fun together when you were little— why not paint your Soho apartment a quirky, vibrant white so your kids can, too? Admit it, I’d totally match your mason jar and unused typewriter aesthetic. I’m more than just an old toxic friend— and I know I sometimes have trouble listening (and not just due to the hearing loss and kidney failure from my own noxious fumes), but I’m really ready to make this work. I hope you are, too.