I was just looking at “The Bunheads are Dead,” the cover story from the "first ever Digital Supplement, on Professional Learning," from Amercan Libraries. And it's another one of those, we are so hip, we don't wear belts with our trousers manifestos... or something like that. And it criticizes the hair buns and cats-eye glasses of the "traditional" librarian.
These new librarians can't get away from the nerdbrarian, spinsterbrarian, virginbrarian image fast enough. Hurry and ink or pierce something quick before someone thinks you're uncool. "I am not a traditional librarian," they shout from behind their Coop Devil Girl and flame-covered MacBooks, their radium blue nail polish tapping out tweets, their red Doc Martens laced up to the calf tapping the rhythms that blast through their iPods.
I am not your mother's librarian. I am a super-sexy [boom], sexified [ba-boom], sexylicious [wha-wha-wha-whoom], sexbrarian. (Ow. I think I threw out my hip out on that last thrust.)
But there's nothing sexy about the new librarians. There is no mystery with the new librarians. There is no wonder as in, I wonder what she's like outside of the library. What do you wonder with the new librarians? I wonder if she'll cover up those tattoos. I wonder if she'll put some more metal in her face.
The myth of the sexy librarian dies with the new librarian. The sexy librarian was born from the imagination, from the fantasy. We are compelled to wonder: after all, someone can't look like that all the time. But with the new librarians, yes, they do look like that all the time.
There is an evolutionary imperative to metamorphose. Change symbolizes sexual maturity. When that dowdy librarian slips off her glasses, pulls the pencil from her bun, lets down her hair and shakes free her waves of silken hair, she transforms into the sexy librarian. We want to see the beautiful butterfly change from the ugly caterpillar. How can you have Sexy without the Transformation?
So I'm appealing to all the new, hip, cool librarians: please, don't give up every tradition. If you can wear glasses at work, then do it. Maybe those Buddy Holly ones. And if you can stab some pencils into your faux-hawk, that would help a lot. Thanks. Now that's sexy, baby.