The Diet Coke Essay

I was at a restaurant and I asked the server for a Diet Coke, as usual. I was so excited thinking of my crisp Diet Coke with a side of ice and a lime wedge. When the server returns—horror ensues as they place the can on the table. Instead of my beautiful, sexy, delicate silver can I am met with an offensive, loud, ugly red can with bold black writing that reads “Coca-Cola Zero Sugar”—stupid name btw. I couldn’t bring myself to drink it, like what the fuck do they think I’m a boy or something?

I have said to my boyfriend on multiple occasions in a half-joking tone “Diet Coke is for girls, and Coke Zero is for boys.” As in what Diet Coke vs Coke Zero socially represent within a broader cultural context—their marketing strategies are completely reliant on and echo the performance of contemporary femininity and masculinity.

Diet Coke has long been heralded as an emblem of femininity. From pre-internet advertisements to girlhood memes, Diet Coke has held a special place amongst women since it’s conception. The grand premiere of Diet Coke took place in 1982 at Radio City Music Hall in New York. A giant Diet Coke can was center stage accompanied by The Rockettes—other emblems of femininity. By 1983, just one year after it’s premiere, Diet Coke had become the number 1 selling soda among women.

Search “Diet Coke” on Pinterest and you’ll immediately be met with photos of Diet Cokes with other emblems of femininity. Diet Coke can with lipstick stains. Diet Coke being held by a hand with red nail polish. A purse filled to the brim with Diet Cokes. Taylor Swift and Diet Coke. Lily Rose Depp and Diet Coke. Kate Moss and Diet Coke. Diet Coke on a pink bed spread. Diet Coke and ribbons. Diet Coke sat on a bedside table next to a copy of Nabokov’s Lolita. Drink the drink and you too can be a waifish-kate-moss-virgin-suicides-diet-coke-drinking-girl™

“Forms of modern life may differ in quite a few respects – but what unites them all is precisely their fragility, temporariness, vulnerability and inclination to constant change. To ‘be modern’ means to modernize – compulsively, obsessively; not so much just ‘to be’, let alone to keep its identity intact, but forever ‘becoming’, avoiding completion, staying underdefined.”

Zygmunt Bauman, Liquid Modernity

If within modern culture masculinity is defined by the flesh of humanity, and femininity is defined by the altering of that flesh, contemporary masculine performance is defined by an altering of flesh whilst insisting it’s proximity lies closer to the masculine flesh rather than the inherent feminine nature of alteration associated with performance. This is represented by Coco-Cola, Diet Coke, and Coke Zero.

There is a modern phenomenon of men performing masculinity in a way that is inherently “feminine” in nature. Despite the act of performance and the alteration of flesh to be feminine within the current cultural framework, men seek to deny their proximity to the feminine by exaggerating a superficial form of masculinity–whilst denying it’s superficiality. This contemporary masculine performance is represented by Coke Zero. Coca-Cola is the original, the soda at it’s pure unaltered state. Coke Zero is more similar to Diet Coke than it is Coca-Cola. Though, Coke Zero seeks to replicate Coca-Cola whilst denying it’s parallel to Diet Coke. This is exemplified by the decision to change Coke Zero’s name to Coca Cola Zero Sugar in 2017—further distancing it from the Diet Coke branding and aligning itself with Coca-Cola (again—stupid name, no one calls it that, and it’s too long). Coca-Cola represents something classic and Americana that Coke Zero will never be able to replicate despite it’s attempt to simulate it. In this same way Los Angeles, Silver Lake boys dress in Carhartt jackets to perform a version of masculinity they aspire to simulate, but are not and never will be—the blue collar worker.

Within our broader cultural framework masculine worth has been defined by capital, and feminine worth has been defined by appearance. Masculine aesthetics used to be more incidental as they were indicative of ones lifestyle in reference to their job. A Carhartt jacket is the symbol of a working class blue collar man because it’s actually a functional jacket worn by men with blue collar jobs. Though the influx of office jobs at varying levels has led to an increase in the homogenization of working attire. This type of social signalling amongst men disappears, and aesthetic male performance becomes more intentional and referential rather than functional—which greater echoes the feminine nature of performance. To their great dismay, a Silver Lake boy is much more similar to the superficial feminine than he ever will be to the mythologized blue collar worker he cosplays as.

Twitter user basedsrini wrote: “diet coke’s superiority over coke zero lies in it’s unabashes embrace of the synthetic. whilst coke zero (as the name implies) seeks to minimise itself, blend into nature as a predator would, diet coke recognises that the creations of humans are inherently natural.” they continue “diet coke is prometheus. coke zero is a bitter and capricious zeus. Diet coke is advaita. Coke zero is deferent hare-krishnaism. diet coke is humanism. coke zero is anti-natalism”

Superficial femininity as has come to be understood in culture, like Diet Coke, is also defined by an unabashed embrace of the synthetic. Whilst new age masculine performance is Coke Zero, the synthetic masquerading as real.

Synthetic carcinogens packaged in sleek silver packaging and branded with delicate cursive font. Diet Coke took the idea of sugar and created a sleek and sexy bastardized version of it. Ready for consumption though so as not to compromise the waistline of it’s consumer—so they too can remain sleek and sexy—though rotting inside.

“The Young-Girl is an optical illusion.

From afar, she is an angel, and up close, she is a beast.”

Tiqqun, Theory of the Young Girl

Diet Coke, like The Young-Girl spoken about in Theory of the Young-Girl exists as an optical allusion. Diet Coke doesn’t embody a real drink (no calories, no sugar, no nutrition), but the idea of consumption.

The Diet Coke acts as an emblem of the simulacrum of feminine performance. Beneath the beautiful, sleek exterior, carefully curated, and meticulously branded for consumption is a synthetically sweetened poison, slowly eating away at the flesh. Much like feminine performance, which is also defined by a carefully curated image that is meticulously branded for consumption, though ultimately is a carcinogen that eats away at both the psyche and the flesh of the girl it possesses.

Not only is it a drink that appeals to women, it’s a drink that contributes to the image of femininity just by drinking it—which is perhaps it’s appeal most of all. Evoking imagery of Kate Moss and Lana Del Ray. The girl loves to consume Diet Coke, but most of all she loves to be consumed whilst consuming Diet Coke. The image of pleasure with no calories. The idea of femininity with no body.

“The Young-Girl's determination is the same regardless—

to disregard her body, and to make her body an abstraction.”

Tiqqun, Theory of the Young Girl

Anyways, I couldn’t bring myself to drink the Coke Zero at the restaurant that day. The condensation on the can dripped onto the table, and the ice in the cup melted. I paid for it, but I wanted it to soak in it’s contemporary isolation—the Coke-Zero loneliness epidemic or whatever. In denying what it is, it will never feel the grasp of a woman’s hand around it’s cylindrical body or the touch of her lips on it’s lid. At least not this woman.

I will never drink Coke Zero!!!

I can’t stop drinking Diet Coke.

Help.

Help.

Help.

Help.

My reward when I finish writing this is I get to go to the corner store and buy a Diet Coke. ✧*｡٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و✧*｡