Although I’d like for this post to be clever and lighthearted, in true Beastie Boys fashion, this project made me cry like a baby. I thought two years would be enough time for me to get over MCA. I was wrong. I cried through the sketches with my Sharpie in hand. I cried through the transfer onto the dainty yellow napkins. I cried through every goddamn stitch. I even cried ironing them for the final photo.
All of this left me wondering what exactly the Beastie Boys mean to me. I can’t link them to a specific time and place the way I usually can with something sentimental. Instead, they’ve always just kind of been there in the background. Their lyrics have always popped up in my daily conversations. Their records have always been within easy reach of my stereo. Maybe that’s it – there hasn’t been one defining moment because they have always been there, growing up with me.