Smoking is somehow inexplicably cool again, and I’m not happy about it.
After a period of health-conscious stigma, it is now viewed as culturally acceptable and even desirable to be seen holding a cigarette in one’s hand. It signals sophistication, a rebellious attitude, and undeniable coolness.
Newsweek reported on a “cigarette renaissance” among Gen Z, a trend that makes me upset and confused, and is hard not to take personally.
I never had even the slightest desire to participate, because, for me, cigarettes represented something far more sinister — death. And I was too afraid to ever try one.
I grew up watching celebrities smoke in movies
Growing up, my mother, who was obsessed with old black-and-white movies from her youth, admired the glamorous film stars, many of whom smoked cigarettes.
When I was young, we watched her favorite movies together on our oversize sofa. I, too, was mesmerized by gorgeous women like Rita Hayworth, dressed in Gilda’s flowing gowns, as she used cigarettes to seduce and wield power over the men around her, or Audrey Hepburn in “Breakfast at Tiffany’s,” carrying the now-iconic cigarette holder as she window-shopped for jewels. Both women seemed so different from anyone I’d ever met, embodying the height of elegance and sophistication.
While I quickly adopted my mom’s love for Hollywood’s Golden Age, I have never smoked a cigarette, even though most of my friends did as teens. They were the “Breakfast Club” kids who rebelled against conformity and thought that if they smoked, in addition to wearing too much black, they’d appear more mysterious and desirably misunderstood.
My dad had lung cancer
One of my earliest memories is of my dad puffing away on his cigarette while I played in my playpen. He contracted lung cancer when I was 4, and the sight of the black, spidery stitches that crept up his back after surgery made me afraid to hug him. I was always terrified he would get sick again.
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Despite quitting, his cancer came back eight years later. I was 12. It turned out his lungs were just too damaged to heal. From then on, an oxygen tank accompanied us everywhere he went; every breath was a struggle. His last two years were agony. As a teenager constantly visiting him in the hospital, I vowed to myself never to smoke. My friends told me I was too uptight. When I’d fruitlessly suggested they stop, they accused me of being preachy.
Some years later, as a 23-year-old actor in NYC, I landed a role in a short film that required my character to smoke. I only had a few lines holding the cigarette and pretending to inhale. I awkwardly fumbled with it between my fingers, hands shaking, trying in vain to imitate classic film stars I grew up with and how they held theirs.
Embarrassingly, holding a cigarette was far harder than keeping my balance in the stiletto heels I was wearing. After several takes, the assistant director took the cigarette from my hand, “This is how you do it,” and with enviable flair executed a perfect smoke circle into the air.
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I apologized, explaining that I had never even tried a cigarette before. He looked at me with exasperation, shaking his head. Suddenly, I became flooded by traumatic memories of my dad coughing up blood. It was then that I began to realize how much cigarettes were a trigger for me. I even wondered — was it wrong for me to accept a role that compromised my own personal values? So, when all these years later, cigarettes again began flooding the TV, not only was I surprised, but it also brought all those same memories back.
Cigarettes robbed me of time with my dad
Now cigarettes are considered “cool” again. I’m saddened and annoyed at how quickly so many people are willing to forget what smoking does to their health. It feels very selfish to be stripping not just lungs but years away from families of loved ones.
Lung cancer stole my dad, but really, cigarettes robbed us of healthy and happier years together. The ones we did have were full of his anger and frustration due to the suffering he knew he couldn’t escape from, and my own fear and anxiety over losing him were overwhelming.
So, despite this resurrection of smoking as it nears Ozempic-level “it” factor, I’m not lighting up anytime soon and hope others who find this latest fad cool will come to their senses. We owe it to ourselves and those we love to do better.
