Starbucks' Unicorn Frappucino isn't about the flavor, it's about the experience

Hello, it’s me. Sports blogger and extreme millennial. Like many of my generation, I am easily distracted by and attracted to things that light up, sparkle, smell nice, or are brightly colored. Read: Anything that would make our Instagram followers jealous of the nice life we are seemingly living.

The new Starbucks Unicorn Frappucino does just that.

Here it is, folks. See it and know that I, a hip and cool millennial, tried something before you.

I first bought this drink because 1. I am helpless to resist anything that is marketed with its own Snapchat filter, and 2. I was wearing this sweet pink and purple windbreaker and, wouldn’t you know it, it looked exactly like the drink. (See above tweet.)

I ordered it while guiltily avoiding eye contact with the cashier. (I tried to order it from my app to slink in and pick it up unnoticed, but I forgot my Starbucks password and couldn’t add money to my card.)

I considered giving a fake name, but I sheepishly told them “Molly.” As a reward, he spelled it right on my cup.

I sipped it about six minutes after it came into my possession. (I had a photoshoot with it first to document my time with the precious nectar.) My first conscious thought was, “This drink is no good.”

It is made of Starbucks’ standard frappucino syrup, white mocha flavoring, mango syrup, “blue drizzle,” and then sour mixes.

You can discern the white mocha/cream taste distinctly from the mango, and it’s not great. I felt a little sick.

However, as I mixed in the blue drizzle, I began to enjoy myself. The sugar was pumping through my veins. The nostalgia was flooding in.

“Why,” I thought to myself, “this tastes like if you combined strawberry milk, fun dip, and an orange dreamsicle. All things I could have easily consumed on any given school day in 2002.”

And the Starbucks overlords looked down on me in my pink and purple jacket and saw my tweet, Snapchat story, and Instagram post, and they were pleased. Their mission was complete. Their arduous marketing was paying dividends; I was giving them free exposure AND I bought this drink.

What did I gain from the experience? Some pink-stained fingertips, a nostalgia trip, a headache from the sugar crash, and a sickly aftertaste. But! I am not a victim. I ordered this drink full of guilt, but as I sipped I held it out proudly, taking selfies with it all the way home. It even made me smile a little, mostly because my Instagram was getting likes.