Class cosplay
Celebrities featuring fast food, retail, and an impending election
I didn’t like the burn of the grease on my arms when I worked at McDonald’s, but an equally painful part of working there was putting on the uniform. A men’s polo and black non-slip shoes with a hat that barely fit my tight bun, slicked back military-style to avoid any false hair-shedding allegations, didn’t help my confidence.
Making things worse was the fact that you usually only got two shirts so you had to re-wear one, which wasn’t exactly feasible since the smell of grease was palpable, or you had to constantly do laundry. I couldn’t imagine wearing that outfit again for fun. But recently, celebrities of various fame levels have been working (or, rather, “working”) at fast food establishments. And not just there, but they’ve also been showing up at restaurants and big box stores, all of which require similar uniforms.
Ed Sheeran worked as a barista at Starbucks, serving Pumpkin Spice Lattes to promote his album. Lana Del Rey went viral when she was spotted in uniform at a Waffle House. The famous Donna Kelce, who is the mother of football stars Travis and Jason Kelce, worked at Raising Cane’s. Internet stars Trisha Paytas and Tana Mongeau have sported various fast food attire and have filmed videos and podcasts wearing complete ensembles. (Though in defense of Trisha’s brand, she has earnestly worn fast food attire for years.) Social media and reality TV stars Charli and Dixie D’Amelio faced backlash for working at Wal-Mart to promote their snack line.
As inflation lingers and creates a more lopsided reality for most of us, I have to ask—what, truly, is the point of all this?
I’m a former fast food worker and my mother was one as well. (I wrote about this more in-depth in “Fast Food Runs in My Family” in The Nation.) Though I now work as a writer and educator, I still have a connection to the fast food world, and the recent exploitation and cosplay demonstrates how out of touch elites can be. Just as the division between education levels and jobs continue to predict someone’s political affiliation, the cosplaying of working class professions is creating another divide. It certainly feels like a “let them eat cake” moment.
I’ve been thinking about this issue for a while and someone mentioned to me that nostalgie de la boue is nothing new. But I think the difference between nostalgie de la boue and this current reality is in the obvious profiteering.
It's one thing to genuinely be interested in something, regardless of its status. (I feel like that has always been an explanation for binge-watching reality TV.) But this feels different, especially when you have celebrities who don’t seem to really embody the brands they are now trying to represent. (Like I said, there’s nothing fun about a smelly oversized polo when you have to wear it.) This new trend seems like it has become about commerce and cosplaying for self-promotion. (How many of these celebrities genuinely care about the plight of workers there? Maybe some do but it feels a little off, which was apparent with the D’Amelio backlash.)
As thrifting has drawn more scrutiny after people began profiting from bargains, the uniform cosplay is also a way to make “ironic” a lifestyle.
Fashion has historically operated as a way to distinguish between classes. But there has been a growing new trend of ironic fashion styles that don’t just imitate but also seem to mock lower-income individuals, like intentionally holey clothes and $600 shoes that appear dirty.
It doesn’t seem like any of the celebrities cosplaying are trying to be disrespectful by any means, but it is an odd trend and makes me wonder what else is coming for the next year—and the rest of the decade. I can only imagine these marketing teams are trying, somehow, to make these millionaires seem relevant to everyday people.
But does it work? Who does it actually impress? Not me.