Friday, April 30, 2010

Maybe it's the clothes we wear, the tasteless bracelets and the dye in our hair

I have come to the conclusion that only enduring alternative style one can embody is 'trash'. Not metal, not punk, not indie or hippy or rockabilly or greaser or surfer betty or skinhead or straight edge. None of those or any others. Only trash.
The problem with trying to be alternative is the in-built paradox. As soon as a culture evolves outside of the 'mainstream' people will start to flock to it. The more alternative people that identify themselves as being part of this supposedly left-of-centre culture the more both mainstream and desirable it becomes. It's simply not alternative any more, but a niche group for people who like to think they are acting outside the norm.
Trashiness is special and sacred compared to these other groups. Trashy people are always going to be outcasts, they are always going to scatter themselves about the fringe, hating what they are and yet hating the mainstream. Loving what they are and yet loving the mainstream.
Trash will never come into fashion, trash will never be popular. Mainstream society might adopt trash for the purposes of parodying it, or for the curiosity factor but they will never embrace trashiness.
Further people don't choose to be trashy and that is part of what makes trash more authentic. It's not something you dip your toe into, dabble with. It is extreme, inherent, and unavoidable.
Trash is both eternal yet ever-changing, wonderfully lovely but above all exclusive. It's nowhere towns, nothing places and cellophane sounds and I think it's grand.