Love them or hate them, the Kardashians live objectively nice lives.
They have fancy sinks in their bathrooms; they can afford to spend $10,000 on Postmates; and they take extended vacations, sometimes lasting nine months.
It is for these reasons, and more, that millions of people feel compelled to keep up with the Kardashians’ lives on a weekly, daily, minute-to-minute basis.
Personally, I consume most of my Kardashian Kontent after-hours, when I can’t sleep and feel like punishing myself even more. Sunday night was one of those nights, and there was so much to catch up on. Kanye West hosted his “Sunday Service” earlier that morning at Coachella, and the Kardashians came out in full force. They then jetted back to their various compounds, and proceeded to celebrate the Easter holiday like they do most holidays, which is like they invented them.
Despite all the perks of being a Kardashian, I have not once thought to myself: I wish I was one of them. Sure, I’ve felt pangs of jealousy. And I’ve imagined what it would be like to press a button and have my television set come out of the floor. But it wasn’t until I saw the extent of their Easter Sunday feast that the pros of being rich and famous outweighed the cons of being rich and famous, in my mind.
At approximately 11:45 p.m., I came across Kylie Jenner’s Instagram Story of a cheese platter. Like everything the Kardashian-Jenners do, this was cheese platter was not average. It was enormous, like the size of a kiddie pool, or monster-truck wheel. I counted at least five different kinds of cheeses on it, each cut in a different shape, plus three different slices of meat, olives, grapes, dried apricots, crackers, and mixed nuts. It was the perfect balance of of milk types, textures, and intensities. Hard mingled with soft; salty with sweet; stinky with sour. Honestly, I do not have the vocabulary to describe the complexity of this cheese plate’s flavor story. All I know is that I would begin my first-born’s name with a ‘K’ if it granted me access to it.
After pausing my finger on Kylie Jenner’s Instagram Story for an inordinate amount of time, I took a screenshot and closed my eyes. I did not dream of of life as a Kardashian, but I did dream of diving into a kiddie pool of expensive cheese and drowning in it. And for that, I am thankful.