I’m 18 years old and I still love Hello Kitty. There, I said it. Some people my age are into cars, bear-shaped Starbucks cups, and pre-midlife crisis, but me? I love a tiny cartoon cat that doesn’t even have a mouth. And honestly? She gets me.
When I was little, my whole world revolved around Hello Kitty. Every book bag had her face on it, more outfits were Hello Kitty than not, and I even had little dress boots with her face that my mom would have to pry off of my feet against my will. My biggest problem back then was deciding which Hello Kitty accessory I could convince my mom to buy me; it didn’t matter if I already had ten similar bows, I needed them all.
Fast forward to now, my Hello Kitty book bag has been replaced with a less exciting pink one (don’t let this fool you, my senior book bag was Hello Kitty last year), my bedtime has become less specific and more of a “whenever the mind starts racing” type of time. But the love? Absolutely still there.
There’s something about that red bow that makes me feel like I just got handed a Capri-Sun and I have no responsibilities.
People love to say, “Aren’t you a little old for Hello Kitty?” And to that I’d really love to say, “Aren’t you a little boring for not?” (just kidding, everyone has their own interests)
Hello Kitty is timeless. She’s been around since the 70s, hasn’t aged a day, and somehow manages to be adored everywhere. Without ever speaking a word.
That’s power. She’s like the Taylor Swift of cartoon cats.
As I’ve gotten older, my obsession has matured a bit. Instead of hoarding bows and stickers, I now subtly (maybe not so subtly) incorporate her into my life. A Hello Kitty poster? Yes. A Hello Kitty toothbrush holder? Duh. A Hello Kitty waffle maker? Who doesn’t need that?
There’s something weirdly comforting about holding onto something that you held so dearly as a kid. Life gets stressful. Starting college, adulting, trying to remember how to do citations without an online generator (seriously, I hate citations). Sometimes you just need a dose of childhood joy.
Hello Kitty reminds me that it’s okay to like cute things, even if they’re considered immature. She reminds me to have fun and not take everything so seriously.
Plus, let’s talk about her aesthetic? Pink and iconic. No mouth, no drama. Just Hello Kitty and her friends.
Whenever I see Hello Kitty merchandise in a store, I instantly turn into my five-year-old self again. Eyes wide, heart full, and my mom’s wallet cowering in fear. It’s like she’s giving me permission to be soft in a world that puts “cool” and “edgy” as a priority.
So yes, I haven’t outgrown Hello Kitty. And I don’t know if I ever will. She’s a reminder that you don’t have to “grow out” of joy and fun. You just have to find new ways to carry it with you.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m on my way to check what Hello Kitty posters are at Walmart (I’m kidding…kinda).