I’m not on the TikTok, so I’m usually late to all the lingo. I also prefer not to add zoomer to my vernacular, but aura really stuck with me last year. It’s because everyone is using the word as it’s meant to be used, similar to how everyone learned the definition of demure and decided to beat the proverbial horse into a sad, neglected, and proverbial corpse. I didn’t care about having rizz, but having aura sounded pretty nice. I interpreted it as some type of quiet confidence or gravitational pull, like main character energy but less cringe. So, how do I get some of this… aura?
Coincidentally, I recently finished binging Culinary Class Wars, a Korean cooking competition reality show. Spoilers ahead – skip past the first image if you care! But that’s like a third of this post! Haha watch the show HAHA JEBAL!!
Now, hear me out. Triple Star and Edward Lee have aura. At least, in whatever I saw through the carefully edited lens of the producers. They both emanate aura in different ways; Triple Star with unwavering precision and attentive demeanor, whereas Edward Lee via unapologetic authenticity and a clear wealth of experience. Though admittedly, they are also both objectively skilled and subjectively attractive. But “get good” and “be hot” aren’t very helpful takeaways for a blog post digging for a profound lesson.
I agree with most netizens that the tofu challenge was the true finale. It didn’t matter who won at the end, since both chefs played their strengths to their utmost limits, and us viewers ate along with the judges. Triple Star tried to Michelin-ize every version of fried tofu he could think of, and Edward Lee’s wacky interpretations of tofu-adjacent literally and figuratively cooked. But I was particularly touched by the latter’s imperfect bibimbap – a vulnerable reflection of his identity as a Korean-American chef. Looking back, it has struck me how perfection and aura might just be diametrically opposed.
Apparently there are rumors about Triple Star’s personal life, but I’ve avoided researching them for the sake of preserving my argument. Also, I’ll stop shoehorning in Gen Z verbiage, even though I should be afforded that privilege by being on the cusp of millenial age…
I’ve been a perfectionist for as long as I can remember. The armchair psychiatrist in me would claim it a symptom of tiger parenting, and that the young adult (that is no longer me) would believe it to be A Good Thing. There are positive traits that I associate with perfectionism, such as being meticulous, persistent, and ambitious. It’s probably a self-selecting trait for chefs that make it to multiple-Michelin-starred kitchens; a necessity in a workplace where a single mistake is unacceptable for critics and casual diners alike.
But for me, a chill guy existing in SoCal, it’s much more of A Bad Thing. It stems from a place of insecurity, that there is always a correct answer and anything less is abject failure. Simply put, perfectionism is a fear of being cringe. As a fumbling amateur home cook, I still compare my dishes to some of the best in Los Angeles, which has one of the best food scenes in the country. Presenting my wannabe Michelin soup, which failed to meet my irrationally high standards, feels embarrassing. Even the gaps between my Substack posts and the frequent re-reads of my drafts are precautions to avoid embarrassment. Do I have something worth writing about? Does this shit even make any sense? Most importantly, is the meme I chose still funny?
It’s really not that deep. While I’m out here making excuses to stay inert, the creative muscle that is my writing continues to atrophy. Looking back, I’ve made some dishes late last year that I was actually quite proud of. Conveying my voice in my writing feels more natural now. My mantra was fuck it we ball and I went to new places, met new people, and tried new things. I likely did some embarrassing stuff, and I’m no worse for wear*. I don’t have a phrase quite as pithy this year, but the focus is overcoming inertia so it would be apt to keep the ball rolling.
*Counterpoint: my intoxicated birthday self may have hogged the microphone at karaoke for 6 hours straight after the onset of a sore throat, and made swallowing painful for the next two weeks.
And if last year’s theme was authenticity, then this year’s theme is being unapologetic. People with aura are comfortable with the fear of being perceived. They’re comfortable asserting their opinions, and are equally receptive to being corrected. They’re also imperfect like everyone else; sometimes flustered or stumbling, but can laugh it off later. Well, in my opinion haha… funnily enough, I deleted a ton of probablys and I thinks while I was writing this.
As someone overly-specialized into acts of service, I’ve realized my autopilot apologies that come with being a people-pleaser are minus aura and, quite frankly, self-serving. It’s a defense mechanism to lower expectations (sorry) and evade failure (sorry), instead of actually addressing the issue (sorry) or lack thereof. I’m hoping there are not too many things to apologize for this year, but if I do, it’ll be with intention!
So embrace being a little weird and dumb. Be yourself, and surround yourself with people who don’t hate that. And if you’re really annoying, then you might find yourself apologizing – but hey that’s a lesson too! I don’t know if that actually equates to having aura, but at least people will be jealous that you’re having more fun than them. Honestly, this is a lot easier said than done for me, but we all have to start somewhere. Maybe this year, I can hit the noraebang and unabashedly belt out a song without having multiple drinks in my system.
✦
In truth, I finished watching Culinary Class Wars a couple months ago, and wanted to write something about it. But I didn’t have much top of mind until I performed my annual pilgrimage back home to the Bay, and had way too much time alone with my thoughts. Consider this a loose study of my New Year’s resolutions, or preview of a vision board I could make. The memes are important, otherwise people might forget that I’m actually so funny sometimes.
