Occasionally, I see writing prompts that urge people to write a letter imparting advice to a younger version of themselves as a way to reflect on their current values. For the longest time, I thought my advice would be simple: "Generally, don't yuck someone else's yum."
I think most of us, in one way or another, go through that sardonic phase where we're armed with pithy barbs or withering looks ready to be leveled against anything deemed too mainstream or basic. As a child of the suburbs, I had a particularly polarized relationship with the trappings of both middle-class housewives and "Jersey Shore"-inspired mall rats — frothy pop music, pink Starbucks drinks, the heady patchouli-plum scent of Ed Hardy's "Love & Luck" perfume.
