A couple of weeks ago a close friend asked me, “Wait, what does Disco Therapy actually mean?” Well crap, if my closest friends don’t even know, I can’t expect anyone else to! The story behind the seemingly random name of this blog is kinda cool if I do say so myself, but first allow me to provide some context:
So, WHY Disco?
Drama queen that I am, I was agonizing over what I could call my blog that would encapsulate the vision I had in mind. I did all the exercises the gurus provide, but nothing had that special ring to it. THEN, in a brainstorming fog, I decided to watch a documentary on Studio 54. About halfway through: Lightbulb!!
The people in the documentary were reminiscing on the inclusivity and the welcoming atmosphere of Studio 54, and it filled me with a warmth of excitement. I’m a dancer & singer and am so very passionate about the power of music and movement. (It’s not an artist thing—it’s a human thing.) I had already been toying with the idea of “therapy” being in the name as a nod to the themes of self-care, and Disco Therapy had the perfect ring to it.
The origins/power of disco
The genre and culture of disco isn’t just bubblegum songs, mirrorballs, and glam; It’s deep emotions, a scary world outside, and artists working through their own trauma (in healthy or unhealthy ways) creating orchestral anthems for people to dance to.
I am fascinated by disco history and am still quite a novice. If you aren’t familiar with Studio 54 and the height of disco, here’s a brief overview: Disco was born out of a tumultuous time in New York City, and created primarily by the Queer, Black, and Latinx communities (to whom we owe so much gratitude for originating or developing practically everything in pop culture). As the genre got more popular, straight suburban white dudes latched on, and by 1980, it was pretty much gone.
Studio 54 was one of the most iconic disco clubs in New York and was notorious for ~sin & sophistication~. There were a lot of drugs, some corruption, and lots of other equally scandalous things.
What I hope to do
Disco Therapy is a place to celebrate individuality, self-care, and authenticity. Life is hard, but you have the power to build your own oasis away from all that shit. You can’t pretend your problems don’t exist, but you’re allowed to take a break to put yourself first. The world of social media, facetune, and god knows what else that’s designed to make us seek an unattainable level of external validation can create an emptiness inside. I’m always looking for actionable and sustainable ways to fill that void.
How I’ll do it
I have always found joy in creation and creativity. I DIY personalized gifts for friends, have designed and sewed my homecoming dresses, and am reasonably capable with a power drill. I don’t know about you, but if I zone out for two hours, I’d rather it be because I’m lost in a story or a project that brings me joy. Not lost in my Instagram feed.
I don’t believe that people are either creative and artsy or they aren’t; I think that if you’re a human, you can create. I want to help people improve their quality of life in itty bitty ways. I share realistic and applicable activities to put in your toolkit to make your day a little brighter.
Here you’ll find self-care ideas in the form of beauty & health tips, book recommendations, DIYs, and destressing activities. Self-care is inherently personal and not everything works for everyone. I want this to be a place you feel free to be yourself.
The Crying in the Club Club
I am not a fan of toxic-positivity. “Just be happy!” and “Don’t worry so much!” are banned here. What I am a fan of is feeling feelings deeply and not judging myself for being happy, sad, grateful, scared, hopeful, and hurt all at the same time.
It is a truth universally acknowledged that a person wearing non-waterproof mascara while experiencing some form of heartbreak, must be in want of a best friend or a stranger she meets in the bathroom to wipe that runny eye makeup off her cheeks and tell her she’s a bad bitch. Once this task has been completed, the only logical thing to do is return to the dancefloor of the club or bar, tear stains and all, and twirl around to that song that seems to miraculously match the rhythm of your heartbeat.
We’ve all been there in some form or another. For me, it was returning to the dancefloor of a frat filled with the melodious tunes of “I Love It” by Kanye & Lil Pump after vomiting (soberly, from anxiety) at a 9am tailgate the morning after a breakup.
I’m in no way endorsing pushing yourself to go out and induce a panic attack in front of frat brethren…but I am encouraging everyone try finding the catharsis in being one of many dancing around to blaring music. Or the joy of knitting socks, or transforming a thrifted find, or creating a self-care routine that is fun. That is disco therapy.
And that, my friend, is the story of how Disco Therapy came to be. Disco because I want to create a fun, comfortable, and inclusive space. Therapy because we all can use a little healing and a brave place to explore.