Grande, Decaf, Low Fat, Extra Dry Cappuccino
Authors: Leavy Patricia 
Published: October 2020

Desire. A longing, craving, hunger. A powerful motive. The representation of hope. Seemingly carnal. While historically the term "desire" has been categorized as an innately human and ultimately basic natural force, within the postmodern context "desire" becomes far more complex and contradictory and accordingly requires more expansive defining. Regardless of the content of the desire, whether it be the desire for romantic love or a successful career or an ice cold soda, whose desire is it? Can we within postmodernity separate the carnal from the calculated, the individual from the collective? How many others are involved in the desires that I have? Where do my desires come from?
A dialogue regarding the strategic forces used to create consumer desire is well established within academia, dating back at least twenty-five years. This has been in response to the expansive advertising efforts engineered by industrial corporations which began in the early 1900s as mass production increased, necessitating new consumer markets. This research has provided insights into how advertising developed not merely to inform consumers about product availability, but also to reconstruct consumer perception (Ewen 41). Additionally, this modernist approach to the study of consumer desire has explored how advertisers study "mass psychology" in order to understand the way representations of products work to enhance product desirability (Ewen 47-9). While this dialogue is most important, within postmodernity, questions of representation become even more complex. Building upon questions of how images of consumption operate, we must now ask what, if anything, is behind those images. One of the characteristics of postmodernity is that I remember images of events that I did not witness. For example, while I was not present at the assassination of President Kennedy or during the Viet Nam War, I can recall, both spontaneously and at will, crystal clear visual moments of each historical event. In this postmodern time and space we all share a collective memory of images associated with events we may not have personally witnessed. Given this historically unique phenomenon, and that images often work within the realm of the unconscious, how do I know where my images of desire come from? Moreover, is there a universality that even my most seemingly personal desires maintain?
Baudrillard asserts that we live in a world of simulation where referents are lost and we live by a system of signs without origin, no longer able to distinguish the real from the imaginary. He posits, "simulation threatens the difference between the true and the false, the real and the imaginary" (3). Desire forcefully manifests itself as true and real within each of our lives. In our hyperreal postmodern time and space, how can we individually and collectively be able to distinguish what our own true desires are as our I/eyes are mediated in multiple and often invisible ways (Pfohl)? Furthermore, do we desire what is represented in signs that don't actually have an origin in reality?
Sociologist Stephen Pfohl writes the following: "The last thing that happened to me was a memory. Flash. Snap. Crack(le). Pop. I was watching television when suddenly I was recalled, taken by a sensational image of a desire to return to a time that never existed. Where does this image of desire come from? Where is it taking me? Where is it taking others?" (6). Combining the works of Baudrillard and Pfohl I am left wondering not only where does desire come from, but do images of desire actually spark our lives? This raises two pertinent questions: 1) as previously stated, we have a collective remembrance of images; therefore, to what extent are desires universal within any given historical time and geographic location, and, 2) who constructs those omnipresent images of desire? To what extent do media conglomerates, advertisers and politicians serve as mediators in our consciousness? I desire an answer to the following question: why is it that I drink diet coke? To quench a thirst or multiple thirsts? When I desire a cold diet coke, what might I gain from satisfying that craving?
In the movie You've Got Mail the character played by actor Tom Hanks says: "The whole purpose of places like Starbucks is for people with no decision-making ability whatsoever to make six decisions just to buy one cup of coffee. Short, tall, light, dark, caf., decaf., low fat, nonfat, etc. So people who don't know what the hell they're doing or who on earth they are, can for only 2.95, can get not just a cup of coffee, but, an absolutely defining sense of self. Tall. Decaf. Cappuccino." The promise of both the product and the experience of fulfilling "personal" passion(s) has historically risen and is now at an all-time high. This increase in expectations can bring about two new results: 1) the fulfillment of the desire does not live up to the promise of fulfillment, or, 2) the satisfaction(s) gained from fulfilling the desire are illusions or partial illusions.
For example, the first possibility occurs when I purchase a cappuccino to both quench my physical thirst and exert my decision-making ability even if on some unconscious level. Should the latter not occur, the desire for the possibility of the product is felt to be greater then the reality of the product. In the second case, I, as the character in the film asserts, may gain a false sense or illusion that purchasing and consuming this product demonstrates my decision-making ability. Turning to the issue of the universality of our images of desire, what happens to the individual when he/she discovers that the most intimate of desires is shared by countless others? What happens to the value placed upon that desire? In 1908 classical Sociologist Georg Simmel shared the following insight:

In the stage of first passion, erotic relations strongly reject any thought of generalisation. A love such as this has never existed before; there is nothing to compare either with the person one loves or with our feelings for that person. An estrangement is wont to set in (whether as cause or effect is hard to decide) at the moment when this feeling of uniqueness disappears from the relationship. A skepticism regarding the intrinsic value of the relationship and its value for us adheres to the very thought that in this relation, after all, one is only fulfilling a general human destiny, that one has had an experience that has occurred a thousand times before, and that, if one had not accidentally met this precise person, someone else would have acquired the same meaning for us. (147)

Are all of my desires comparable or even parallel to those of strangers?

One does not desire without an object or subject. The desire for romantic passion involves a subject while the desire for a product involves an object. Even desires regarding success that may appear to live only within the individual actually exist within institutions and/or based upon some level of comparison exterior to the individual. The desire for the product or passion does not exist in my body alone but rather in the relation between the object or subject and myself. In our postmodern context the mediating factors between what is desired and the desirous individual are increasingly manifold yet often invisible.
I'm going to Starbucks. I want a grande, decaf, low fat, extra dry cappuccino. Obey your thirst!

References

Baudrillard, Jean. Simulacra and Simulation. Michigan: U of Michigan P, 1994.
Ewen, Stuart. All Consuming Images: The Politics of Style in Contemporary Culture. Basic Books, 1988.
Pfohl, Stephen. Death at the Parasite Café: Social Science (Fictions) and the Postmodern. New York: St. Martin's Press, 1992.
Simmel, Georg. On Individuality and Social Forms. Chicago: U of Chicago P, 1971.
You've Got Mail. Warner Bros., 1998.

Citation reference for this article
MLA style:

Patricia Leavy. "Grande, Decaf, Low Fat, Extra Dry Cappuccino: Postmodern Desire." M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 2.5 (1999). [your date of access] <http://www.uq.edu.au/mc/9907/grande.php>.

Chicago style:

Patricia Leavy, "Grande, Decaf, Low Fat, Extra Dry Cappuccino: Postmodern Desire," M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 2, no. 5 (1999), <http://www.uq.edu.au/mc/9907/grande.php> ([your date of access]).

APA style:

Patricia Leavy. (1999) Grande, decaf, low fat, extra dry cappuccino: postmodern desire. M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 2(5). <http://www.uq.edu.au/mc/9907/grande.php> (your date of access]).