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This weekend has had fantastic weather, non? Blazing sunshine, not a cloud in the sky. People with families in parks, kids indoors playing video games instead of catching sticklebacks in the river (that’s a whole other topic though), and many lovely women wearing very short skirts and enjoying themselves.
So there I am driving over the Chelmsford to enjoy a late afternoon/evening barbeque, it’s 5pm and the day is settling down into one of those warm summer evenings you never want to end. You know the ones, where you sit with friends and revel in being alive, swap stories and tales of absent friends, reminisce about how it was like this when you were a kid – except you’d be out playing footie or jumping in the rivers.
And what do I see on my drive on this balmy, sun-slowly-sinking evening?
Some Goth yomping down the road wearing his ankle-length leather jacket, motorcycle boots, wraparound shades and gloves.
WHY?
You are *not* in The Matrix, because it is a film. You are not cool because you can swelter in the burning sun.
Nobody passes you and thinks “Wow, he’s cool! I bet he knows kung-fu and can bend the very fabric of existence”
Nobody secretely wants to be you, nobody stands in awe as you thud pass with your perma-scowl that reeks of loneliness and too many nights on AOL trying to find continuity errors in The Crow for the umpteenth time.
People pass you and snigger, they shake their heads and think “You tool”
But you’re different right? They just don’t get it do they?
They’re all the same – sheep aren’t they? Look at them with their t-shirts and shorts, out with mates. You’d never be so clichéd, you understand life so much deeper than everyone else don’t’ you?
Yeah I know, you are privy to some inner secrets of life that we aren’t simply because you don’t conform, maaan.
You’d never wear a suit, they’re for losers. You’ll never have the family, kids, car, savings and mortgage right? You’ll be an outlaw, forever on the edges of society but that’s fine because they’re all just so, like, stupid aren’t they?
Except you are the same. Not the same as me, but the same as all the other little “outcasts”. You’re an individual, you’d never look like “them”.
Except you look like every other angry, frustrated little teen searching for an identity. You all wear black, you all wear leather coats because you think it makes you cool.
You’re no different to “them”, same groups just a different uniform.
Deal with it.
Realise that you will grow up and out of your Neo-phase, realise that one day you will look back and laugh at pics of you so desperately trying to shock and scare “them”, because god forbid they might discover that you’re just as insecure and unhappy as everyone else.
So instead you choose to appear “different” and “individual”, little realising that there are thousands and thousands of people that look just like you.
What you don’t understand is that nothing you do, nothing you think or say is original. It’s all been done before by someone else. And done better. The only thing you can do that’s original is be yourself, yet you think by adopting the uniform of black clothing and pretending to be oh-so-cynical, that people will think you have such a better grip on this world than they do.
Well you don’t.
Nobody does.
The only way to be original is to be yourself. Want to be non-conformist? Listen to rock music and wear a shirt.
That is non-conformist.
Listen to Goth music and refuse to don the disguise.
That is non-conformist.
Be a skateboarder but don’t wear baggy jeans and a massive key-chain.
That is non-conformist.
Realise that you can do something, but choosing not to is a cop-out. “Yeah, like, we were gonna go but we thought ‘why bother?’, so we, like, stayed in”
Wow, you sound so cool. I want to be your friend and together we can ferment in apathy.
But you see, by me telling you to be non-conformist, should you do that? You’ve just conformed to what I said.
Hell, don’t listen to me. I’m just another armchair novelist, with that great unfinished book inside me that I know would set the world alight if only I had the time to write it.
Right?
Not you though,you’re different.
So there I am driving over the Chelmsford to enjoy a late afternoon/evening barbeque, it’s 5pm and the day is settling down into one of those warm summer evenings you never want to end. You know the ones, where you sit with friends and revel in being alive, swap stories and tales of absent friends, reminisce about how it was like this when you were a kid – except you’d be out playing footie or jumping in the rivers.
And what do I see on my drive on this balmy, sun-slowly-sinking evening?
Some Goth yomping down the road wearing his ankle-length leather jacket, motorcycle boots, wraparound shades and gloves.
WHY?
You are *not* in The Matrix, because it is a film. You are not cool because you can swelter in the burning sun.
Nobody passes you and thinks “Wow, he’s cool! I bet he knows kung-fu and can bend the very fabric of existence”
Nobody secretely wants to be you, nobody stands in awe as you thud pass with your perma-scowl that reeks of loneliness and too many nights on AOL trying to find continuity errors in The Crow for the umpteenth time.
People pass you and snigger, they shake their heads and think “You tool”
But you’re different right? They just don’t get it do they?
They’re all the same – sheep aren’t they? Look at them with their t-shirts and shorts, out with mates. You’d never be so clichéd, you understand life so much deeper than everyone else don’t’ you?
Yeah I know, you are privy to some inner secrets of life that we aren’t simply because you don’t conform, maaan.
You’d never wear a suit, they’re for losers. You’ll never have the family, kids, car, savings and mortgage right? You’ll be an outlaw, forever on the edges of society but that’s fine because they’re all just so, like, stupid aren’t they?
Except you are the same. Not the same as me, but the same as all the other little “outcasts”. You’re an individual, you’d never look like “them”.
Except you look like every other angry, frustrated little teen searching for an identity. You all wear black, you all wear leather coats because you think it makes you cool.
You’re no different to “them”, same groups just a different uniform.
Deal with it.
Realise that you will grow up and out of your Neo-phase, realise that one day you will look back and laugh at pics of you so desperately trying to shock and scare “them”, because god forbid they might discover that you’re just as insecure and unhappy as everyone else.
So instead you choose to appear “different” and “individual”, little realising that there are thousands and thousands of people that look just like you.
What you don’t understand is that nothing you do, nothing you think or say is original. It’s all been done before by someone else. And done better. The only thing you can do that’s original is be yourself, yet you think by adopting the uniform of black clothing and pretending to be oh-so-cynical, that people will think you have such a better grip on this world than they do.
Well you don’t.
Nobody does.
The only way to be original is to be yourself. Want to be non-conformist? Listen to rock music and wear a shirt.
That is non-conformist.
Listen to Goth music and refuse to don the disguise.
That is non-conformist.
Be a skateboarder but don’t wear baggy jeans and a massive key-chain.
That is non-conformist.
Realise that you can do something, but choosing not to is a cop-out. “Yeah, like, we were gonna go but we thought ‘why bother?’, so we, like, stayed in”
Wow, you sound so cool. I want to be your friend and together we can ferment in apathy.
But you see, by me telling you to be non-conformist, should you do that? You’ve just conformed to what I said.
Hell, don’t listen to me. I’m just another armchair novelist, with that great unfinished book inside me that I know would set the world alight if only I had the time to write it.
Right?
Not you though,you’re different.
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I find it funny that most people who wear all these black clothes in mid-summer and hold skateboards are doing so to be 'individual', but by doing so they are just following a crowd.
I listen to Maiden. I class them as my favourite band. Yes, i have long hair, and yes, at first, it was for the music. Now it's because I look better with it. I've got Maiden T-Shirts, but never have I owned a skateboard or baggy pants. I've been to one concert in my life (Maiden at the London Brixton Academy on the 19th March 2002). I don't hang around with 'skateboarders'. I just enjoy the music and do what i want to do. Simple.
I listen to Maiden. I class them as my favourite band. Yes, i have long hair, and yes, at first, it was for the music. Now it's because I look better with it. I've got Maiden T-Shirts, but never have I owned a skateboard or baggy pants. I've been to one concert in my life (Maiden at the London Brixton Academy on the 19th March 2002). I don't hang around with 'skateboarders'. I just enjoy the music and do what i want to do. Simple.
Aah, but what if you have to dress a particular way to avoid people laughing at you?
This of course doesn't apply to Goths, but say you were a skinny person with rather peculiar shaped arms - would you wear a t-shirt then, or a long sleeved shirt to avoid people looking at them?
This of course doesn't apply to Goths, but say you were a skinny person with rather peculiar shaped arms - would you wear a t-shirt then, or a long sleeved shirt to avoid people looking at them?
*hands Goatboy a box of tissues ... then realises what he's just put his hand in*
Ugh!
Ugh!
It's not the conformity of image that bothers me about most cliques, it's the condescension shown by some groups to those who are not a member of their illustrious way of life...
Does that make sense? Basically, a stereotypical goth is A-ok by me (even though they're following a herd themselves) right up until the point they give someone grief for not being a goth.
Probably the wrong clique to have chosen as an example, but you get the idea...
Does that make sense? Basically, a stereotypical goth is A-ok by me (even though they're following a herd themselves) right up until the point they give someone grief for not being a goth.
Probably the wrong clique to have chosen as an example, but you get the idea...
I saw two weirdos at the tube station the other day; adorned in tight shimmering dresses, covered in a plethora of piercings, constricted in leather and each with extreme hair colouration. They had platform boots on too. As they walked passed me, I wondered why these blokes had done this to themselves, and also as they weren't trannies or gay (I presumed), what sort of lady they hoped to attract....
A horrible one with metal skin and no dress sense.
A horrible one with metal skin and no dress sense.
I do laugh when I see, "Barry boys", in their puffa jackets and really baggy jeans.
How to look cool whilst sweating like a paedophile in a playschool.
How to look cool whilst sweating like a paedophile in a playschool.
I thought exactly the same thing on Saturday, when I walked past a pasty-faced Goth in Harlow town centre dressed in ankle-length leather jacket, baggy trousers, wool jumper and white face make-up. I just thought "You nob." It was about 28 degrees, and you could tell he was sweating like a pig on crack.
I also walked past someone dressed like a Pearly King of London, although he had a white afro and glasses, Jack Osbourne style.
I also walked past someone dressed like a Pearly King of London, although he had a white afro and glasses, Jack Osbourne style.
No...more...almost....there....neejdttmnf
I understand...I have the same problem.
I have to wear sort of tight tops because of my boobs otherwise tops just hang straight down off them and I look odd. Tops have to come back in again, to prove I have a waist. See?
Gah, enough!
Gah, enough!
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