The first time I heard about Twin Peaks was in my third year of University. My friends (and eventual roommates) Andrew and Viga had started watching it and told me all these weird things about the show and how brilliant it is. They even started leaving mysterious notes on my car, telling me that gum I liked would come back into style, or that a log had something to tell me.
Andrew finally convinced me to try watching it with him about a year later. I’m ashamed to admit that I didn’t really get it right away. I saw it as this weird, cheesy, confusing show about some girl (coincidentally–and unsettlingly–with the same name as my cousin) who got murdered.
I can’t remember how many episodes I watched before its appeal finally clicked for me, but it was a complete 180. I went from disinterested bystander to rabid fan. I remember begging him to tell me who killed Laura, before immediately taking it back and then begging him not to tell me.
Since then, I’ve watched the original series a few times through; watched Fire Walk With Me, the Psych episode that parodied Twin Peaks, and even the SNL skit; dressed up as multiple characters throughout the years, including Dale Cooper, but annoyingly I can’t seem to find a good photo from that party; had red room dance parties with my beloved former roommate (probably you had to be there for this one to make any sense); hid a picture of Dale Cooper all around the apartment with the aforementioned former roommate (again, had to be there); read The Secret Diary of Laura Palmer; and obsessed over last year’s amazing revival series–particularly that stunning ending. I even shouted at one of my coworkers (er, in a funny, friendly way?) last week when she dared to mention that the show “probably doesn’t hold up.”
I both love and hate trying to describe the show to someone who hasn’t seen it before. “It’s a murder mystery, but also a kind of funny soap opera with elements of the supernatural?” I mean, I guess if you’re talking to someone who’s seen his other work, you can pretty much just say, “Oh, it’s David Lynch,” and they’ll be like, “Ah, got it.”
While I loved putting this post together, I do have to admit: it’s super weird to see photos of yourself, well, “dead, wrapped in plastic.” I managed to watch all of The Haunting of Hill House over the past few days (super bummed I didn’t watch it early enough to do a Theo or Bent Neck Lady costume) without having a single nightmare… pretty sure editing that photo is going to cause a few, though.
(Oh and by the way, I was actually clothed in the photo; I just pulled the straps of my tank top off to the side. I don’t know why, but I feel like I really want everyone to know that? NOT NAKED.)