Samantha LaFountain

Survival With Glitter On It

The Radical Act of Being Whimsical
Shit’s fucked, so wear a ballgown and have a picnic.
Drink your eight cups of water from an old crystal glass originally meant only for weddings and funerals.
Eat off the fancy plates.

A friend of mine asked our group chat recently:

I’m going to take a moment to gush about my friends. I love them, and I tell them I love them (if you don’t do this, I recommend it; it’s always a beautiful little sparkle moment). I don’t have a million bazillion friends. It’s impossible to give that level of care to that many people. So the ones I have, I hold tight in what is essentially a UFC grappling hug of love. I love our long, deep discussions. They are smart, thoughtful, kind — and I genuinely enjoy hearing their takes and perspectives.

Which brings me to one of my favorite subjects: I fucking love whimsy.

I’m often described as a happy, sunny person, but that isn’t my default setting. At my core, I can be sad, introspective, shy, and incredibly hard on myself. If I don’t check myself, I become an observer of the world instead of a participant. Not wanting to be a burden, I stay on the sidelines instead of recognizing that my presence — with the right people — is a gift I can give freely. Sometimes that sidelining reads as disinterest, which only deepens my fear of being misperceived. Even now, I forget that curiosity is enough.

Being happy — being visibly full of sunshine — is a muscle I had to build. Slowly. Sometimes reluctantly.

Growing up, I believed that my family was cursed at one point. Nothing ever seemed to go right. There was never a break from the emergencies and issues we had to push through in everyday life.

But the truth is: we weren’t cursed. We were poor.

And the way systems are set up, we were meant to be punished for that. Meant to feel horrible for it.

Every car that broke down, combined with the lack of public transit, meant skipping school or relying on carpooling. The power being shut off meant homework by candlelight — or not at all. Being houseless and sharing one bedroom with my mother and sister, while she worked as a live-in nanny for another family, made me feel less than worthy.

The only thing that made it bearable — the only thing that made the fight worth fighting — was laughter.

And some whimsy.

Or just trying to make my younger sibling feel better.

I’d call our nights without power “pilgrim nights” and turn them into adventures. I’d make up silly dances for them to perform. I’d tell fantastical stories to distract from our instability.

And somewhere in that, I realized: Oh. This helps me, too.

It wasn’t ignoring what was hard. Whimsy wasn’t denial.

It was survival with glitter on it.

Now, don’t get me wrong. Toxic positivity is real. I’ve worked corporate jobs that demanded forced cheerfulness while everything burned around us. Too much “good,” especially when it’s performative, can be just as harmful as despair. Ignoring the fire doesn’t put it out. It just lets it spread.

And there is a lot on fire.

We are bombarded daily. Palestine being destroyed by Israel. AI draining resources. Endless tech layoffs. Micro-transactions in every corner of life. ICE tearing families apart. Groceries costing more. Housing becoming unreachable. Trans rights under attack. Women denied healthcare after Roe v. Wade was revoked. Officials with no spine. Justice delayed. Justice denied.

The list is endless. You already know it. You’ve read it. You’ve grieved it. You’ve raged about it.

And it can make you feel very Nietzschean — like hope is the greatest evil because it prolongs suffering.

Hope can’t fuck you and fix your life (and neither can women — that’s not how people or relationships work). Hope isn’t magic. It’s a motivator. It’s a promise we make to each other every day: when given the opportunity and the privilege, we will do good.

Hope, like love, is a choice.

And sometimes I have to remind myself that it’s still the answer.

Because the bastards really are trying to grind us down. That’s the point. They want us tired, numb, burnt out, compliant.

So yes. Being a little delulu is the solulu, as the TikTok youths would say. You have to look for the glimmers. You have to remember what you’re fighting for.

And whimsy is no less magical just because you have to manufacture it. It doesn’t fall from the sky and bonk you on the head. You find it. You build it. You choose it.

My best attempt at guidelines for manufacturing whimsy

I don’t follow these perfectly. But they’re my north star.

• Start small. Tiny, repeatable rituals.
• Drop the fear of being cringey. Lay down the shackles of shame. No guilty pleasures. Whimsy requires full enjoyment.
• Give whimsy to others, yes — but put your own oxygen mask on first.
• Do not shame other people’s whimsy. We are all trying. Let the Sonic-costumed stranger live.
• Whimsy requires consent. It is not humiliation dressed up as humor. If it hurts someone, it’s cruelty.
• Gifts of whimsy come with zero expectation of return.
• Be creative. It doesn’t have to be purchase-based.
• Be curious. Be playful. Vulnerability is contagious.

Practical Whimsy (A Non-Exhaustive List)

Here are some of the things I sent my friend in response to their incredibly fun question about how I manufacture whimsy in my life…

🍷 Drinking out of fancy cups for everyday drinks

• As a holiday gift theme this year, I gave some friends fancy antique glassware. All thrifted and reasonably priced — and I got some for myself as well.
• I feel so fucking whimsical when I’m drinking a sugar-free Baja Blast out of a wine glass, okay?

🎤 One-person karaoke concert.

• I was gifted not one but two tiny karaoke machines by two different friends one year, and let me tell you, I put them to good use.
• I like to do the karaoke while on my walking pad.
• I also treat my walking pad like a cat walk.
• You don’t need a karaoke machine or a walking pad, though. YouTube has plenty of karaoke options, and a dance party can happen anywhere.

🍬 Keep cheap little treats on hand.

• Simple peppermints from the dollar store.
• Pickles
  • A good, crunchy spear is 10/10.
  • Pickled stuff is good for the gut.
• Think: indulgent, but not life-savings-level indulgent.
• Buy the tasty creamer for your coffee.
• I’ll buy pre-cut mango and put Tajín on it. So good.
• Keep Dum Dum lollipops around.
  • I tried pickle-flavored ones recently.
    • They were terrible but also weirdly good???
    • Like a McDonald’s cheeseburger.
    • Whimsy 10/10.

💄 Random glam makeup with the most sparkles.

• Ask yourself what teen/child you would have loved to look like — then recreate it.
• I tend to go sparkly, ethereal French clown.
• Don’t worry about it being perfect.
  • Have fun.
  • You can always wash it off later.
• This applies to going out, too.
  • Any outing can use full glam.
  • Unless, I guess, you’re going to the dermatologist.

🐕 Counting how many cute dogs I see on a walk.

• Cheap and adorable.
• Always ask before petting.
  • Working dogs wearing vests only get pets with our eyes.
• Great game to play with pals.
  • Bonus fun: give the dog a name. If you’re with friends, vote on the best one.
• Cats are worth more points because of their rarity.
  • One time, while working a comic event, a girl brought her sleepy ferret on a leash in her purse.
  • Whimsy maxed out that day.

🐇 Declare Chicago rabbits lucky.

• Rabbit’s feet are considered lucky, so why wouldn’t they still be lucky while attached to the rabbit?
• I don’t necessarily believe in luck, but the ritual is the fun part.
• There are two rabbits (sometimes a third) in my apartment courtyard. I love them. Every sighting = another point in the luck column.
  • I named them Cabbage, Spinach, and Carrot.
  • No, I cannot tell them apart.
  • Yes, I love them all the same.
• This can work with any frequently spotted things: specific type of car, bugs, numbers, time, etc.
• I also count corgis as a good omen.

💬 If I think of the compliment, I tell the stranger.

• It forces me to stay present and talk to people, even though I’m naturally quiet and shy.
• It makes me feel good because I do like people, and I want them to know they brought me a little joy.
• And again, their reaction doesn’t matter.
  • I’m speaking to a stranger unprompted.
  • Not everyone will be welcoming.
  • Sometimes they don’t even hear it. But I know I said it, and that’s enough.

🪩 Practice twerking.

• I am not a graceful or elegant creature so dance does not come naturally to me.
• (insert white people joke here)
• Excellent warm-up for sports or exercise.
• Great for loosening stiff hips (mine are very stiff).
• There are many styles, so lots to try.
• Super fun. Makes you admire your own butt.
• Plenty of amazing teachers on TikTok and YouTube.

✨ Edible glitter.

• Put it in anything.
• Hilarious in pickle jars.

👠 Dress up when you don’t feel yourself.

• I have this thing where I can’t feel sad if I’m serving cunt.
• It’s also okay to feel sad and let your body rest.
  • But sometimes sadness is just a temporary thought, and serving a “lewk” can make that gloomy cloud dissipate.

🔮 Confirmation burps.

• Learned from TikTok tarot readers.
• If you say something like, “I would make a great backup dancer for Megan Thee Stallion,” and then burp afterward, it’s confirmation.
• Also, a fun group game!
  • Everyone shouts “confirmation burp!” when someone burps.

🌻 Buy yourself flowers.

• Walking home with a handful of sunflowers (my favorite flower).
  • Putting them in a vase.
  • Hell fucking yeah. That’s tight as hell, brother.
• Freshly picked wildflowers work too.
  • But don’t steal from your neighbor’s garden.
  • Those flowers are for the bees and everyone else.
• Give flowers to your friends.
• Can be replaced with pretty leaves, rocks, acorns — anything.

🃏 Anything can be a game.

• Play more, whimsy is about being playful.
• Get a high score and try to beat it.

📷 Taking pictures of things I enjoy while walking.

• A silly pig bench.
• A Beanie Baby in my neighbor’s tree.
• Keep them in a folder for quick reminders.

💘 Self-dates.

• You don’t need a reason. Just do it.
• The longest relationship you’ll ever have is with yourself and your body. Treat it well.
• Eat alone. Eat all the food. You deserve it.
• Try a new place. Wear a fancy outfit.
• Tell yourself what you’re proud of.
• Remind yourself how much more you want to do.
• At least once a week I take myself to a cafe to write or if the weather is nice to the park.
  • I get to people-watch and enjoy the company of others without engaging.

✅ “Yes, and” your conversations.

• Whimsy can live in conversation.
• Ask silly questions. Go silly tangents and wax poetic about mundane things and make them fantastical.
• Commit to the bit.
• Again, it is just play. And be curious.

🌆 Invest in your community.

• This can be time or money.
• Only give in ways you realistically can.
• I like donorschoose.org and give when I’m able, even if it’s small.
• HumbleBundle.com lets you make charity purchases and get fun games, books, or software.
• Sometimes I buy friends a game from their wish list. If it’s multiplayer, I’ll buy one for myself too, so we can play together.

📝 Document the good so you can remember it.

• I journal a lot, and I can’t only write about what’s going wrong. I have to record what’s going right.
  • Our brains are wired to remember bad things more vividly — that’s survival.
  • So do what you need to remember the good: write it down, use sticky notes, your notes app, voice memos — whatever works.
• It doesn’t have to be big. Just stuff that was good about that day.
  • It can be a glass of cold water after a workout.
  • The smell of a backyard campfire as you walk down the street.

🛋️ Curate your space and rearrange it.

• I’m a maximalist at heart. I love antique shops and thrift stores.
• My office is basically a knick-knack haven.
  • Finger puppets, statues, action figures, tarot cards, books, comics — so many things.
  • I have emotional support wrestling action figures with an ongoing soap-opera romance I stage by rearranging them.
  • Currently, Okada and Stone Cold Steve Austin are dating while The Rock stalks them (he’s on the outs).
• Moving things around reminds you how cool your stuff is.
• At my poorest, I used wrapping paper as wallpaper. Pushpins worked. So did renter-safe tape.
• I want my bedroom to feel like a forest grove, so I’ve been crocheting vines out of green and brown yarn.
• Recently, I overhauled the art on my walls.

None of this erases the fire.

It just reminds you that you’re still alive inside it.

That’s not everything, but I’m trying not to overthink what I write here — because then I never post anything. The last piece sat in my drafts for months while I tweaked and adjusted. Sometimes you just have to post. Do the damn thing. That’s another game I’m playing: don’t be afraid of being perceived. Even imperfectly.

Live whimsically, pals.

Don’t let the bastards grind your glitter.