Alright, I’ve had enough. I walk to work and mostly wear cozy clothes, but sometimes, even though there is absolutely no dress code to speak of, aside, seemingly, from Please Let’s Don’t Show Up Naked, I like to wear a collared shirt now and then.
Usually on days I shave.
Nothing severe, certainly no overly starched collars, diagonal stripes, elaborate and bellicose patterns, white shoes, or any of that type of banker-wanker thing. Maybe a kinda comfy plaid button-down; y’know? Or something in a single, solid color.
So today, dressed like this, I was called ‘Preppie’ by these kids. Kids with skateboards. And tattoos.
“Huh?” I thought, looking around for the guy, the ‘Preppie’ guy they were talking about, but I was the only guy there. I’m wearing some easy plaid shirt and a pair of Nikes. And I’ve got scruffy hair. Preppie. Me? Really? I was a bit stunned. You’re fucking kidding me.
My contention in all this is such: the greater effort someone goes through to affect their outward appearance, perhaps the greater they are very alike those they seek to differentiate themselves from. I don’t know who the bigger fashion assholes are; these ‘skate punk’ people that haven’t had a punk inkling in their precious live, or those Manufactured Bimbos with the Prada bags and that peculiar type of attitude that seems to come with ownership of a specific product. Really, I wonder how long it takes to mohawk one’s hair. Lord.
Be different: dress for comfort, don’t get pierced and tatted up.
I mean: have doubts, have original ideas and thoughts and questions and stuff, think critically, read a lot, think crazy shit, and share it with people, make art, write, do something, don’t just sit on the sidewalk with your buddies. Change internally, not just externally, be punk on the inside. I dare you to. Be totally revoluntionary and real and true and passionate and original all at the same time. But go out the world the way nature brought you into it. C’mon. More inner reflection, less outward reflection. You’re covering up homogeneity with all that and I can tell.
Ok, I’m going outside. I’m not a ‘Preppie’, but feel happy that I can afford clothes that can cause me to be mistaken for one. Thank you, universe.