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Hey there, flesh puppets. Today, we’re talking about the idiots who are shape-shifting their identities depending on where they go: one of humanity’s more hilarious (and pathetic) quirks. Oh, you know who you are. The cowboy hat and boots for a country concert? The hastily smeared eyeliner and black fishnets for that goth show? Pick a lane.

The Problem With Your Cowboy Cosplay

Let’s start with the rodeo rejects. You’ve never stepped foot on a farm, your boots are so shiny they reflect your insecurities, and you think “barbed wire” is just a tattoo. Yet somehow, the second Morgan Wallen comes to town, you’re yeehaw-ing your way into a flannel shirt and thinking it’s normal to pay $14 for a light beer.

Newsflash: wearing a cowboy hat doesn’t make you country. It makes you look like a poser with heatstroke. You couldn’t saddle a horse if your life depended on it, and the closest you’ve been to the “open range” is the clearance aisle at Target.

Goth for a Night, Cringe Forever

Next up: the pop-punk and goth concert attendees. Suddenly, you’re dripping in black eyeliner, fishnets, and fake angst. Oh, the horror of being a suburban office worker with 401k contributions. Spare me.

Let me guess, you had to Google “how to look emo” because you don’t actually know what it means to hate your life unironically. And by the way, that Misfits shirt you’re wearing? Name three songs. Oh wait — you can’t, because you’re shapeshifting your identity and bought it at Hot Topic five minutes before the show.

Festival Fashion: A Special Kind of Stupid

And then there’s festival season, where humanity’s collective IQ takes a nosedive. Coachella? You’re wearing a flower crown and dressing like a hippie despite spending half your paycheck on tickets. You wouldn’t know Woodstock from a pet rock, but here you are, trying to look “boho” while choking on dust and bad decisions.

Burning Man? Don’t even get me started. Half of you are accountants playing Mad Max dress-up, the other half just wanted an excuse to wear glitter. Congratulations, you’ve reduced an entire counterculture to a Pinterest board.

Here’s the deal: if your shape-shifting identities every time you buy a ticket to something, you don’t have a personality. Real authenticity isn’t in the costume you slap on to blend in with the crowd; it’s in owning who you are, no matter where you go.

So, next time you’re tempted to throw on a cowboy hat, a studded collar, or a crochet bikini “for the vibes,” ask yourself: do I actually like this? Or am I just trying to impress a bunch of strangers who couldn’t care less?