Cockfight Ethics: Bring Me The Ugly
[Editor's note: Cockfight Ethics is a biweekly column written by a long-time Austin opinion-monger and word-slanger, Percy Julian. The opinions expressed herein are the writer’s, and the writer’s alone. They do not necessarily represent those of the Austinist or its editorial staff.]
If the other articles don’t hurt me later, this one will, initially. I go to Spider House and Beauty Bar quite often. And each time, I can’t help but to think “Are these kids just trying to out shitty each other?” It just seems to me that those who doth profess to be so into fashion don’t look good. Their hair looks like they are recovering from cancer, or it’s so Ramone you feel like you’re talking to a sheep dog. These kids, or whatever they might refer to themselves as, seem to take pleasure in who can look the more homeless.
“I haven’t shaved or bathed in 3 weeks, maaan,” the want-to-be tramp says to the eager other.
“Oh yeah? Well I paid exactly $0.92 for this entire outfit, I’ve been growing this beard for eight months, and I haven’t bathed since the last time I jerked off….maaan,” the want-to-be Jizzly Adams says to the guy.
That’s how it goes down, I swear. I heard that exact conversation at a party once.
Also, is it a prerequisite to have gone to New York to be trashy-chic? ‘Cause they always talk about New York and go on about places that I can only assume are there. Thing is, I’ve been to places too, and normally it’s not a laundry list of places when I relate the experience. Maybe it’s just me, but my anecdotes normally include people, places and things I might have been up to. Not just “I went to Brooklyyyyn and I sooo couldn’t wait to get back to Manhataaan.”
Trustafarians aside, the above critique was actually my perspective from a couple of years ago. If you weren’t paying attention, I did mention that you’ll often find me at two of the bastions of these people. There must be a reason, and it ain’t hate. I have become intrigued by the trendy metro hipster emo punks Austin has birthed. So much in fact, that I now own several $300 jeans and $100 t-shirts. Sick, ain’t it?
Apparently all the crappy clothes and bad haircuts are a bit costly. Still shitty, but expensive, and that’s what intrigues me. Outwardly the shit looks jacked, only thing is that when it’s on you can feel the craftsmanship; there is definitely a substantial difference in the craftsmanship and quality. Seemingly the only thought that goes into the design of the hipster apparel is just a copying rocker and punk styles from the late seventies to mid-eighties. Sleeveless shirts, headbands and the like. And the attention to detail is what gets me. I get to witness the underground of an era that I never would have seen without a time machine. It’s a world brought back to life that went unseen even in its day and has pushed its way to the fore front decades later. Better later than never I suppose. How many counterculture styles so far from the mainstream creep out of obscurity and come back better than they were, and couture? (Honestly I’m not sure what that means) I just think it’s pretty hilarious and cool that I can see parents’ children dress like the scummy kids their parents would have avoided like the plague when they were their children’s age.
Another thing: although they are banal and shallow as the people wearing them, these styles are eye catching and unforgettable. It’s a true scene once again. Real scenes don’t happen all the time. I was into underground hip-hop. Though at the time it wasn’t good to say so, but it was a scene, a fad that has all but gone away, and that is unfortunate.
Hip-hop was also all about style. Not just in what you were wearing, but how you carried yourself in those clothes. Hip-hop was a lifestyle, and if I haven’t missed, my guess is that it still lives on in many of these scenester hip-kids. I especially see it in the music and the dancing in some ways.
More to the point, most of the music is electronic in some aspect; usually the beats. Hmmm. Also the music is geared for a certain type of weird, on-beat / off-beat, jerk your shoulders type dancing often ending sequences with flourishes of head nodding or feet stamping. I like the feet stamping. Head nodding is done too often, but the foot stamp with maybe a short-haired head swish “…is Nice!” Oh yeah, and my biggest clue is that every time the dance floor gets bumpin’ and the DJs happen to play something with a little old school flavor, I always see some girls who know what the fuck they’re doing. And if you’re a music snob and have to have some real world examples try A-Trak, Hot Chip, Avenue D, Ghostland Observatory, and Miss Kitten.
The hip-hop scene was all about a certain take-no-prisoners attitude, which if you ask me has become diluted and pussified by attention-starved do-gooder b-boys and skill-less MCs. The scenesters and hipsters have a strong take-no-shit attitude that I can appreciate. There’s been many a time and instance I had to put an all-too “I don’t give a fuck” attitude back into check. Sorry, but no one is too cool for saying “can I get through?” or “-‘scuse me.”
Not only in attitude, ‘Sters also have a preferred drug of choice. Hip-hop had pot, and the scene now is coke…yummy yummy booger sugar.
All in all, both scenes have as many similarities as they do dissimilarities. I find trends and fads to be necessary to the world. These counter-culture trends are our social fire. It gets rid of all the unwanted overgrowth of the mainstream and illuminates the path to trailblaze our existence into new directions. We need rebellion, we need to be shocked out of our comfort zones, and we need to be challenged on all levels. People being different than the norm, people who dare to go against what is customarily thought to be acceptable do this in the most basic of ways: by sight alone.
Our vision is the root of all our judgment, so when we see something that doesn’t quite fit into our schema- we have a problem, and that ain’t a bad thing. I predict some day we’ll all lose touch of our scene, whatever it might be, to whatever degree of rebelliousness, and we’ll see some kids dressed all crazy and weird and we’ll go “Is that the shaft of that boy’s penis? Are his pants so low that he’s showing peevage? That is… that’s dick neck! What’s the world coming to?” Good old ugly progress my friend. Let’s just hope I haven’t put that out in the universe so that my son walks in the house at sixteen like that. Ouch….
And always remember this, because it’s very important: Do vegans swallow? And do black men really cast the darkest shadows? Until next time.
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