Sometimes selfishness is just a byproduct of what works

I was going to write a post where I tried to figure out the history of where all these cupcake shops came from. You know what I'm talking about. Nowadays, it would seem outrageous if you couldn't walk down a (reasonably trendy) street and not be able to buy a little batch of cupcakes for $3 each (intending to share them later on with your girlfriend, but ending up realizing that if you waited until later on they would be stale anyway, so you eat all four of them, and this is the real reason you're getting fat don't blame Christmas for all your problems), but believe it or not, just a few years ago there was no such thing. The first cupcake shop I ever encountered was called "Cupcakes", in Vancouver. I think this was in 2002, which was when I first noticed that Vancouver finally seemed to be looking a bit sharper (when I left in 1998, the whole town seemed to be vacant construction sites). Evidently, the presence of affluence is a necessary condition for the establishment of cupcake shops. In Toronto, the cupcake shops that I'm aware of are all in close proximity to money. The lousy knockoff shop near Yonge and Eglinton whose cupcakes taste like they were made from a cake mix in a box, the little bakery near Queen East and Leslie that's never open, and my favourite (partly because I live a block away), Yummy Stuff (1660 Queen St. West), which hangs out with antique shops, are all located in places where people with cash like to roam.

However, I didn't bother to do all the boring Internet research that would be required to produce something worth reading about the history of cupcake shops, because Zoe Williams of the Guardian has already written something:

(http://www.guardian.co.uk/lifeandstyle/2009/jan/08/cupcake-food-williams).

It's not very penetrating, but mine wouldn't have been much better.

[The Guardian also printed a brief "reaction" blog - (http://www.guardian.co.uk/lifeandstyle/wordofmouth/2009/jan/08/baking-cupcakes)

- in which Sarah Phillips has this to say:

"But is it just me or are they actually quite nausea-inducing? Is it possible to consume an entire cupcake, including that fat wedge of spangly frosting (yes, that is pure sugar and butter), without feeling slightly sick?"

To which the only sensible response is:

Yes, god damn it, of course it's possible to eat ONE entire cupcake. Sarah, what makes you think you can write about cupcakes when you obviously don't even understand the whole idea of dessert? You can't even finish ONE? Ooh, pure sugar and butter, sounds awful. The only cakes you have any right to talk about are rice cakes.]

(There's a lot of embedding in this post; I think I'll stick with it and see what happens.)

The annoying thing about Zoe Williams' piece is the amateur sociology. She can't even seem to decide what point she's trying to make about "What Cupcakes Say About Our Society". First it seems to be that everybody is selfish and self-obsessed, so it's appropriate that we prefer single-portion cakes that aren't shared. Then it seems to be some vague idea, appropriated from a "real" sociologist (I don't like to be snooty about sociology - I know that being a real science isn't what it's about - but a lot of what accredited sociologists say in the press is pretty facile, and really, apart from her academic verbiage, what makes her insights any more authoritative than one's own mental meanderings?), that the impulse behind making and enjoying cupcakes is "infantile", that it makes manifest a brief nostalgic fantasy of 50s housemaking. No attempt is made to draw these two ideas together to create a cohesive opinion piece, or indeed to justify these assertions in any way.

Is it possible that just once, the explanation for a popular trend that is not that it reflects the empty venality and depravity that is us Western people, but simply that it's good and people like it? It's convenient to get a little self-contained piece of cake with a decent amount of icing on it! If you ordered a slice of cake in a coffee shop or a restaurant, it would cost you 5 or 6 dollars, you would need an awkwardly-shaped plastic container for it and a disposable fork, you would have nowhere to eat it unless you were going to sit in the coffee shop and eat it there. Contrast with a cupcake, which requires less packaging (you carry it in a recyclable paper box, or just put it in a napkin which you can also use to wipe off your chops), no utensils, and you can eat it while strolling down the street, or furtively while parked in your car. Plus - I know I mentioned this already, and I know this is something Sarah Phillips is unable to grasp, but it's of paramount importance - you get a nice hefty amount of icing on each cupcake, which is something you are not guaranteed with a slice of cake. Which option wins, from every conceivable point of view? Come on. Don't waste my time. It's the cupcake.

Sure, you could interpret the rise of the cupcake as a sign of selfishness and consumer-driven acquisitiveness - I haven't even addressed what the appearance of the cupcake might signify, because of course you want to eat something that looks nice - but doesn't the actual utility of this confection count for anything? The simplest explanation for a phenomenon is sometimes the correct one. The cupcake is a product that WORKS. That's why they're popular.