Justin Timberlake’s song “Mirrors” drones like a leaf blower that changes the pitch by waving the nozzle up and down. Most of the time when it comes up, I change the channel or jump to another track.
Mirrors are overdone as a metaphor or object of contemplation. Or, they’re perfectly natural things to regard but it’s tough to come up with anything new. But while enduring a few minutes of “Mirrors” and listening to the words, a thought emerged: “What if it isn’t addressed to another person, at all?“
I doubt that is an original thought about this song. Glamorous people have to look at themselves the normal amount PLUS as a matter of commerce. “What’s new/the same about my appearance? Will it maintain/build/detract from my marketability?”
Attractiveness can be a burden. “It’s hard for people to take me seriously!” attractive people claim, with merit. We nod, thinking inwardly “How many traffic tickets have I ended up with compared to what you were able to talk your way out of?”
Attractive people: “No one ever asks me out. They’re too intimidated by my looks.” We laugh with compassion, thinking inwardly: “When we hang out, we can’t even go to the grocery store without you getting looks and hit on a half dozen times. Your lack of dates comes from something else. Or you’re measuring loneliness in hours and days, not weeks, months, years.”
(Yes, it is a brooding, complex experience running errands with me. Seething, cutting resentments and anthropological assessments makes the time pass faster.)
Some lyrics to ponder:
You were right here all along.
It’s like you’re my mirror,
My mirror staring back at me.
I couldn’t get any bigger
With anyone else beside of me.
And:
I can’t ever change without you, you reflect me, I love that about you
And if I could, I would look at us all the time.
The whole song, should you listen/endure it, is full of psychological gems of this sort.
Then as a tonic listen to Carly Simon’s “You’re So Vain”, wearing your apricot scarf. One eye in the mirror as you watch yourself go by…
