The communal sharing of memories from days of heightened One Direction fever brought a welcome respite to my social media yesterday, the 23rd of July 2020, which marked a decade since the band’s formation. No group, fandom or cultural event quite defined my adolescence as my experiences as a One Direction fan did and, in an everlasting stretch defined by apprehension about the future, I welcomed the joyful nostalgia this celebration of One Direction has evoked.

My enduring love for One Direction has similarly come with an enduring need to defend. One Direction’s ‘cookie-cutter’ criticisms of the past stem from a place of undoubted misogyny, as was witnessed by (mostly female) young fans whose appreciation was immediately marred as childish and pejoratively mainstream. One Direction’s initial venture into popular music and the world of public media was undoubtedly a byproduct of their roaring success on X Factor, defined by quick executive planning to maximise — and monetise —  their moment in the spotlight. A specific image of One Direction calcified in the cultural consciousness after the release of ‘What Makes You Beautiful’, followed by similar upbeat pop releases like ‘Gotta be You’ and ‘One Thing’, the most successful singles from their debut album Up All Night. This familiar carbon copy image, however, endured to misrepresent the artistry which exists across their five albums. Whilst the messaging of some of these songs is obviously less-than-perfect, core themes throughout One Direction’s discography have encouraged self-love (‘Little Things’). Additionally, in many meaningful ways for their mostly young, female demographic, there are regular anthems which seek to posit the power found in women (‘She’s Not Afraid’, ‘Olivia’), and an admiration of this. It would be a homogenising, false statement to suggest every song written by or for a young male band in the early 2010s was bolstered by a thematic feminism, but contextual mores and the influences of selling points in a contemporaneous music industry must be considered.

The main drive for my writing this, however, was not a series of analyses of the political consistency of One Direction’s music. The fandom, and the culture of community and irrevocable friendship which came with it, was an immensely valuable commodity to me as an emerging young woman. At the tender age of 11, my revelatory introduction to One Direction was at odds with school, adolescent friendships and my growingly negative concept of self. The unity found in the One Direction fandom is not exclusive, but for myself and other members, it offered an unfiltered, non-judgemental avenue of creative and personal expression, free from the judgment of peers. Young women in the early 2010s did not, and still don’t, hold any extensive cultural capital; the things they like are not valuable or valid because they are marketed towards or enjoyed by young women. The One Direction fandom, however, was an unapologetically mostly-female space (though of course, the One Direction fandom embraced members of all genders) where opportunities for female expression were not stifled but encouraged. If anything, the animosity of my male peers towards One Direction only served to strengthen my admiration of the group, and further my passion to participate in any and all aspects of the fandom community. 

My youthful attempts at discovery of self-hood mapped onto an enduring love of One Direction’s music, the creative projects shared by its fandom, and the infectious personal charm of its members. Early video diaries from One Direction’s time on X Factor marked the genesis of an intensely positive sense of parasocial bonding. Other fan-centred projects like 1D Day in 2013 (a seven hour live stream of the boys and celebrity guests) mark some of my warmest and most cherished memories from my teenage years; for these pockets of welcomed community,  I have One Direction to thank, who for years treated their fans with a dedicated grace. The band’s commitment to giving back enmeshed a sense of immense personal value in the 1D monoculture, something which I’m sure, for its young fans undergoing experiences (as mentioned) of self-definition and discovery, retains its emotional value ten years on.

I celebrated ten years of One Direction with a full heart, and the bright joy imbued in my memories of the band’s music and community hasn’t dimmed to this day. My experiences of One Direction were coterminous with allowing myself to freely enjoy what I loved and, in doing so, provided a happy escapism during some of the years I needed it most.