Anecdote time.

When I was a kid I used to have this friend – let's call her 'X' to protect the lulz – who was really into Dean Cain.¹ I mean, she was really into Dean Cain. The notion of crushing on actors (he was, like, a million years old! Gross!) was novel to me at the time so I used to always feel somewhat baffled upon entering her room to find her walls plastered by with posters torn from issues of TV Hits magazine, all featuring her hero in various wholesome, all-American poses.

Now, one day I noticed that one of X's posters was kinda, well, oddly defaced. Poor Dean was covered in multiple, random pinkish-red dots about an inch across and, even weirder, he appeared to be having a major problem with sweat stains; very unusual in someone primarily made of inanimate paper.

So I asked X about his affliction. The "sweat stains" were quickly revealed to be from where X would liberally apply perfume to the armpits of her poster. Hygiene is very important so I guess I could kind of 'get' that, but… what about the dots?

Right. The dots.

Now, this particular poster happened to be stuck to the door of X's cupboard, which was about a foot and a half or so away from the end of her bed. What she used to do was take off her shoes and socks, put lipstick on her big toe, lie on her back on the bed with her legs dangling off the end and kinda… jab her foot at the poster. The red marks were from where her lipstick-coated toe had collided with the paper. It was kinda like some demented mix of pin-the-tail-on-the-donkey and, like, putting on lipstick and just kissing Dean's papery visage.²

Now just… think about that for a moment. Imagine the scene in your mind.

Anyway, I guess this was my first real exposure to fandom. Nowadays, I can't see Dean Cain without remembering my friend and her red-speckled, perfume smelling poster. In some ways, I think that's how I see all of us, every last fan; we're all jabbing our lipstick-covered toes at our heroes and idols and crushes, all in our own demented ways.

And, really, after X and her relationship with Dean, nothing in the fandom ever seemed strange again.

1. For those of you too young to know what I'm talking about (and, gods, there's a scary thought), Dean Cain was Tom Welling before Tom Welling was Clark Kent. ^
2. Which, IIRC, she also did but that's practically de rigueur for tweenage girls and hardly merits its own story. ^

Mirrored from v-s.net. Comments are preferred on the original.