Alex Blanco
Nov 1 · 4 min read

On being blasé

Some people in Brazil call themselves blasé. Interesting type, indeed. I’ve met them during my studies and work in Sao Paulo.

They are usually people born into white, middle-class, educated families, travelled significantly even before turning 18, studied in private schools, consequently got into good universities and eventually landed at prestigious marketing or media jobs. Interestingly enough, if you point at someone who belongs to this tribe and ask me to describe their characteristics, I can tell you better than any fortune teller this person’s tastes in food and music, where do they shop and go out, what do they read, where do they work and even what type of people they swipe right on Tinder.

Let’s start with social media. Blasé, of course, make sure that everyone knows that they’re just not into social media. It’s draining their intellectual energy and certainly, makes them look less cool. Nonetheless, their Instagram account always has a freshly updated bio — an excerpt from an unknown song of some indie band.

Another example is the tattoo culture. Because even if blasé don’t ink themselves from head to toes, they’ll probably have at least one tiny tat, a very meaningful one. The meaning of which, us, mere peasants, will probably never get. Some tattoos might be borrowed from the Russian Criminal Tattoo Encyclopedia. But mostly, they are related to the art scene: paintings or movies — “You is smart, you is kind you is important”.

Do not expect a hello when you walk into the room and they are listening to the newly released Cigarettes After Sex album. Or when they are writing a review on this album for some gringo website. To be fair, your whole presence is disturbing. They are big-time introverts those people. And because of this, they detest the idea of marriage and the idea of having children altogether. Once, I’ve even met a couple who refused to share the same living space. No surprise, a lone wolf, a charming sociopath, an outcast and a misunderstood artist represent the blasé culture really well.

I don’t doubt they thoroughly read every single sociopolitical book and claimed Fernando Morais as their hero. And since they all voted against Bolsonaro, who cares how carefully they chose their “I don’t care much how I look” protest outfit. And by the way, protests, unlike Tinder, are cool. They unite like-minded well-dressed people who can cite at least three quotes from the book “A Ilha”.

Interesting to highlight that no matter how much socialists they claim to be, they all have a maid or a diarista, a woman that comes to clean their floors and toilet. Understable of course, it’s terrible when the house maintenance becomes an obstacle to your intellectual work. When talking to others, blasé will avoid the term maid by all means. Politely and quietly they will mention to their friends that they have “a woman who cleans their house” or “a woman who works for them”. Despite this, these same people will also point out, accidentally: “How can Camila Alves be on the cover of the magazine? She has a maid’s face!”

I have never met such type after I left Brazil or before I came there to live. And it made me think of a theory on how blasé came into existence. Being born in Ukraine, I studied in a school: a regular public school. We had one school in each neighbourhood and parents usually assigned their children to the closest, to avoid the hassle. All my peers had pretty much the same messed-up pos-Soviet childhood illustrated by a cheap Chinese backpack with American cartoon characters.

My family never had a maid and despite some theatrical scandals, I always had to clean my room alone. After school, I knew I can get in any university I want. It was the matter of picking what I like and study for the exams, pronto! The thought that there were places in the world where people had no access to education had never crossed my mind. Most likely because everyone around me had more or less the same life experiences and study opportunities.

In Brazil the situation is different. Meaning, your life experiences are the result of whether you were born into a wealthy family or not. This also usually determines your race, as being poor in Brazil comes together with being black and being white and blond equals being rich. But let's save this discussion for another post.

Needless to say that all my white, middle-class Brazilian colleagues haven’t been through any serious monetary struggles and probably do not know what is to work night shifts as a waiter while gaining job experience in your field as a recent graduate. They grew up playing with the same people with whom they went to school and whom they later worked with and dated. And when you find yourself in these narrow circle of people, guess what? Your view of the world gets narrower and narrower. Suddenly you are in a tunnel where you don’t listen to anything else apart from what the people around you are listening to, don’t cut your hair in a place that doesn’t offer you a cold Estrella Galicia. You hang out in the same places, sleep with exactly the same people and probably share the same needles as they do in the tattoo shops. You are trapped in a muddy bath of warm bias that slowly sucks you in. Yep, if you are blasé or intending to become one — it’s a dangerous, tough world, my friend. And don’t tell me I haven’t warned you.