The trip that finally conquered my desperate yearning to be cool | Megan Nolan
An encounter in a New York nightclub left me squirming with inadequacy, a feeling I thought I had left behind
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In October, in New York City, in my early but firmly established 30s, I made a harrowing discovery: I still cared about being cool. I knew already that I still wanted lots of vain, self-serving things, like the professional admiration of a certain kind of serious male writer, or for everyone I know to be aware of it when I manage to run for more than seven minutes. I want people to think I’m talented and nice-looking and fun, but I thought I’d left the need for cool behind.
There was a period in my late teens and early 20s when to have my photograph taken at a club night felt like the most important thing in the world. My life at the time had been swiftly vacated of meaning, structure and any events beyond partying: I had the feeling that nightlife could be a real community, that it meant something beyond getting wasted and finding someone to sleep with. I had the feeling that coolness was something attainable and tangible, that it could be the redemptive twist I needed after some difficult years. I thought that coolness could save me.
Megan Nolan is an Irish writer based in London. Her novel Ordinary Human Failings is published by Vintage on 15 June, 2023.
