What was your “style tribe” when you were growing up?
I do a lot of work with teenagers from 16-19 and they all look quite generic nowadays. Maybe at my age I just don’t recognise any groups these days but no particular groups or subcultures seem to particularly stand out. The (very) occasional goth stands out a mile now amongst the sportswear, Superdry and Primark acquisitions that this age group seem to favour, my own two kids (16 and 18) included. Hey, I don’t blame them, it’s cheap and mostly durable stuff.
I started out in about 1979 as a 12 year old, heavily into 2-Tone and punk/post punk, which meant a Harrington, jeans and black Doc Martens shoes etc. (My Mum wouldn’t let me have boots until a couple of years later. Rock and roll eh?) At the age of 15 I morphed into the Oxfam heavy overcoat, black fingerless gloves, black jeans, black jumper and black DM boots look. On my 16th birthday I dyed my hair black and had my ear pierced. I thought I looked cool, and disdainful of the rest of bland society. Actually I must have looked like a chilly Marc Almond on his way to a festival in the Urals. Wisely, I returned to brown hair pretty quickly…
When I got into wider indie stuff a couple of years later, I started wearing checked shirts, often worn open over a t-shirt, and even a (rather holey) cardigan on more than one occasion. Luckily for the short sighted me, even glasses were in vogue. The grade 1 short back and sides look lasted for some time, until the very late eighties when the floppy fringe/bowl cut was adopted and eventually just left to grow out in a quite long style. Wish I’d kept some of it…
I am glad to say I don’t feel particularly embarrassed about any of this stuff. Why should I? It was fun.
Nowadays I rather fit the stereotype of the ageing indie/punk fan: Levi’s, Converse (but New Balance are so comfy aren’t they?!) or DM shoes, denim jacket, black framed glasses, grade 2 all over cropped hair, (necessary) hats, checked shirts etc. Black can be really flattering for the fuller gentleman can’t it? Thank goodness…
What was your style tribe?
From about 12-15 I was identifiably metal – long hair, denim jacket with studs and patches. Not an uncommon look in north Wales in the early 80s, where the lads at our school divided into metal (key band Whitesnake) and mod (key band The Jam). There would be lunch time confrontations which consisted of large groups congregating on either side of the playground and facing off menacingly, before heading back indoors with a sigh of relief when the bell went.
Round about the time I grew out of the jacket I was passing out of my metal years, and also realising that denim and leather was an effective girl deterrent. (The girls at school had their own look of course, based around Duran Duran and other bands no boy would even consider.) The point where all tribes met was Bowie and he, along with Japan and the artier end of goth shaped my sixth for years. I started to wear all black, or angular prints, and when I went to parties I would gel my hair back and sometimes add eye-liner. Wandering around Chester, which was a safer environment for this sort of palaver than north Wales, we would smoke Sobranie Cocktail cigarettes.
Student years I was grunge before grunge – the long hair made a come back along with army surplus gear, grandad shirts and sloppy cardigans. Like Nick I was I had the hair to do daft things with now, though I’m glad that there is no photographic evidence of what I did to it then.
I still have a taste for vintage clothes. I wore a dark blue trench coat and a black fedora against the chill this morning, and picked up a lovely light grey, silk, polka dot scarf in Camden Market at the weekend. I’m not quite ready for the beige slacks and Velcro strap shoes just yet.
The polka dot scarf sounds fantastic Gatz, very stylish. Vintage is great too. Re the hair thing, mine isn’t too bald actually, just a little wavy at the very front (as in in waving goodbye) so an all over crop is a great solution and it’s great when you are in a rush in the morning.
In my mind’s eye, generic teenager – hair cut above collar and ears and clean clothes. Never allowed to sclaff around.
In truth, I probably looked like a glowering rugby player, which is what I was. Not that it was an issue. Didn’t go out during the week (homework until 9) and then playing all weekend.
Would be hippy as a teenaged public-schoolboy, tricky as long hair disallowed, so collar length and over ears as far as i could get. My w/e and holidays would mean lots of multi-patched jeans, yes, with inserts sewn in to flare them, collarless shirts and scarves. I used to rub my jeans knees against brickwork to fray them. Fray, mind, none of the artful rips pre-ripped that kids today wear. Until I learnt how to sew myself, the back pockets would come off and be patched on the knee by my mother, who also had to take off the collars(!) form m&s shirts. I used to enjoy jumble sales for artful knitwear.
By the time I was allowed to grow my hair, for uni, 1975, the tide was turning, so off it all came, short hair ever since, a novelty in the late 70s. More noo wave than punk, I loved me a skinny tie and slightly too small jacket, with drainpipes. I guess that was the look I took on forever thereafter, until ties were no longer de rigour at work. Especially liked going to folk gigs dressed like that.
Now waistcoats, the unsuccessful belly disguise of all elder men, have become my devoted companions, and shoes tend to be anything with a DM sole, these days allowing loads of choice.
Loons. Greatcoat. Patchouli.
Another one for loons, greatcoat, patchouli. My greatcoat was bottle green (ex Wren).with the buttons on the opposite side. Every so often I would alternate it with my Afghan coat – used to drench it in spiritual sky. This was necessary rather than fashionable as if you want out in the rain it would smell not too dissimilar to wet dog.
Mine was an ARP one. When I finally sent it to the charity shop I kept one of the buttons as a keepsake. 😭
Forgot to mention the loon pants in my bit below. Showed your religion, if memory serves, and were good for sucking up water from puddles. As below, my greatcoat was a grey German one – God knows where I got it. It ended up as a gift for a pupil when I left teaching in 1974.
There is a picture of me with friends at a wedding in the 70s where we all look like members of Slade – jackets with aircraft carrier lapels, platforms, kipper ties.
I was discussing this with my youngest, as I no longer see any tribes going into school – not even a token school hippie or goth. She said they are emo if ‘alternative”; not much call for a grime look in leafy south Leicestershire.
Now in the 70s and 80s… from 11 to 14, i sported a Roland Browning look (I am now more like a mustachioed Cosmo Smallpiece).
From 15 to 17 – trying to grow my hair, cheap jeans, dog-chewed t-shirt for punk nights, led zeppelin hoodie (yes, in the 70s) as i cover the hippie metal and prog thing. really, i buy random clothes that are cheap and look alternative and have no sense of style at all.
18 to 21 -Getting to know rock n roll, and go for an ‘elegantly wasted’ look; velvet jacket, leather trousers, bangles, you know the sort of thing. hair getting long.
21 – 23 – doubling down on goth-hippie punk look. above enhanced with crappy accessories from Camden market. Starting to sense I may be being left behind by my peers.
24 – new hippie gf in Edinburgh – regress into hippie clothes; not congruent with the context or times whatsoever.
24 1/2: chucked by same girlfriend. Drop the hippie clothes, drop trying to look rock n roll, ditch the earring,.
since then – aspire to looking like Richard Briars in “The Good Life” at the weekend, and an avuncular but louche academic from the 1950s by day. Both thoroughly suit me.
“avuncular but louche academic from the 1950s”… brilliant!
Geek
You know that hooligan charging about the estate on a rorty, possibly not taxed or insured 2 stroke making far to much noise for its cubic capacity….that was me.
Key bikes (amoung many) Suzuki X7, Kawasaki KH250, 400, Yamaha RD125, 250, 400 (this one scared me)
Note…all the above were two strokes, as was the Yammy RD350 LC which ended my biking years when i had a mayor interface with a blind twat in a Transit van.
I utterly hated 4 strokes and derisivly refered to them as “Diesels”.
Key clothing was tight, dirty jeans, DMs and the coolest painted leather jacket in the midlands.
I rocked a Simpson Star Wars lid and white silk scarf (stolen from my Altered Images loving sister) over my nose like a WW1 era fighter pilot….this was almost useless in preventing fogging but i thought i looked like Biggles.
Key bands were Di’anno era Maiden…i still cannot stand Dickinson and UFO…with a later foray into LA metal.
My fellow biker mates and me positivly detested skins, goths, wedge headed new romantics and hippies but we (to this day) share a special loathing for (spits)…Mods.
Stupid clothes, stupid music and of course stupid slow scooters……i’ve changed me mind about some of the music mind, but not motown.
Now i can speak from experience at the coalface of the early 80s Mod/Rocker feud revival and the beef was always started by thicko Mods…but only when with say..a 3 to 1 advantage.
Meet a Mod solo and there would be a slight, curt nod, no more.
Meet a bunch and oh the fun
As the saying go’s, the past is a different country.
Ooooh KH400. Yesiree. 0 to 90 to 0 in less than 200 yards. Mental. Until the middle cylinder burns a hole in the top of the piston. Hoot of a bike.
Indeed, a harder plug in the centre was the way to go but then it fouled up in traffic.
A distant mate of mine still has a Kwak mach 4….in his spare room.
Not been started in over a decade..crying shame.
I thought about getting back on a few years back but the price of classic strokers is just mental….i recently spied a Yamaha YB200 ratter for 2grand…and thats a ex commuter steed.
Still hate “Diesels”
When an old friend of mine met his girlfriend, then wife, he was 18, lived in a squat and rode an old Triumph. He also had very few clothes, most of which were covered in oil. Barbara’s dad used to put the dog blankets on the furniture before he would let Stuart sit down. You wouldn’t know it now, he’s Mr Respectable apart from the home done tattoos.
What is not to like about UFO?
14 in 1990. Baggy. Voluminous jeans, mustard-coloured hooded top, beads, straggly hair. I thought I looked like Shaun Ryder in the Step On video. I looked like Harry Enfield in the Kevin the Teenager sketches.
16 in 1992. Grebo. Army boots, knee length cut off jeans, long-sleeved t-shirt, even stragglier hair.
18 in 1994. Britpop. Desperately wanting to be able to rock the skinny t-shirt look, but realising it would be too unforgiving to my Mr Muscle physique (these days it would be too unforgiving to my launch). Opt instead for Jarvis Cocker charity shop chic.
43 in 2019. Dad. Anything that fits nicely, with a slight hint of the grownup indie kid. Occasional band t-shirt for old times sake and still steadfastly wearing DMs.
I’m a couple of years younger, but broadly the same:
Baggy: Kickers, baggy jeans, Joe Bloggs hooded top, curtains haircut.
Shoegaze: docs, band t-shirts, too-big jumpers and cardigans. Mark Gardener from Ride fringe. Regularly mistaken for a girl.
Britpop: actually took a picture of Damon Albarn to the barbers. Kept the docs, jeans got a bit more fitted. Fred Perrys and button-down shirts, a Harrington and a second hand suit jacket. Of course, through all of this I’m sure there were plenty of days when I was wearing more generic jeans and t-shirts.
1963 – home made Beatle jacket and Chelsea boots. An old schoolmate recently commented that he thought I was the first to have Chelsea boots at our school, which I doubt, but I can dream. Hair starting to be combed forward. Buddy Holly/Hank Marvin glasses.
1964 – first suit and worn with an umbrella, Avengers style
1965 – bush jacket from the army suplus. This was a craze for some reason. Hair getting longer.
1966 – Carnaby Street via C&A – blue belted corduroy jacket and cord shoes (George wore them in Help!). Now being told to get my hair cut at Grammar School – it’s even in my report book for the time.
1967 – some embarrassing shirts – purple with green dots anyone..? Big collars.
1968 – a greatcoat, ex-Luftwaffe, oddly. Hair now definitely middle parted. Baseball boots from Woolies.
1969 – off to college and jeans with the inserts, natch, and patched to buggery. Grandad T shirts with the three buttons. Died a pair of boots green – I liked Joe Cocker’s at Woodstock. Hair continues to grow for next few years until well below shoulders.
2019 – Grumpy old bald bloke who still insists on wearing T shirts and Levis.
Second generation hippy, flared Levi’s with triangular flare extensions, cheesecloth shirts, old waistcoat, Green Flash pumps or cowboy boots, long hair, beard, greatcoat.
From 15 to 16 or so I was a (very lightweight) goth, which then expanded into some kind of punk hippy crusty look throughout my uni days – army surplus boots and combat trousers, painted leather jacket, very long hair that went through various colours and strategic shaves, vague affection for folk music as long as it was incredibly loudly amplified.
A lot more prosaic these days, though I do own more Deafheaven t shirts than the other 46 year olds.
Being a Gemini and a teenager in the `60`s I tended to alternate between Hippiedom and All Mod Cons. Flaired jeans, hand made suits, dersert boots, psychedelic tees, Chelsea Boots, suits of Victorian spleandour. I had to fuckin` work eight days a week to keep myself up to date in clobber and vinyl and beer.
If I was a teeanager today I wouldn`t change a thing.
It seems to me that only the middle aged are interested in keeping the subculture flag flying nowadays. Just take a wander around the Rebellion festival in Blackpool for instance. All those 50 something punks and skinheads, and there’s nothing wrong with that.
Yabunchapoofs!
For proper blokes, there are only two types of clothes: clean and dirty. Black, grey and very dark blue are the only acceptable colours.
Shoes (and only shoes) black.
No stripes, polka dots or patterns of any kind acceptable. Scarves? Hats? Jewellery? Naff Off!!
See these broken limbs? They said I was nearly blind and needed to wear glasses… Gettaf*ck “experts”! I’ll take me chances…
I hated looking like anyone else, so I went in for looking as odd as possible, being my own tribe. On the night bus home on weekends I’d always get puzzled stares from other teens and sooner or later someone would come up to me and ask “Umm…are you a mod?” (nobody in Sweden at the time had ever seen one so had very sketchy ideas about how they looked) When I said no they’d keep guessing “Goth?” “Punk?” and finally “Well, what are you then?” and I’d just shrug and say “Everything and nothing”.
I wish I had the courage to dress like that today, but nowadays I prefer not being stared at quite so much…but I’m hoping to become an eccentric old lady when I retire! 😀
No style, no tribe – have always been what they call in the antipodes a complete dag.
I dressed out of the Army and Navy Store as a teen – as a student, as well, a bit….desert boots, straight legged jeans, indigo with turn ups & a pocket for a ruler, combat jacket, fisherman’s jumper….sometimes a hooped red and electric blue hairy mohair jersey….
Shoulder length straight hair, middle parting….and an attempted moustache, not really successful. At 18, I looked like Francis Rossi in the old TOTP clip of Matchstick Men….
These days, it’s a diamond pin and a funky hat, mohair suit and new white spats….
There was only one principle and style did not come into it.
I Do Not Want To Look Like My Father
It interests me that fathers and sons can now dress at the same shops.
No real tribe but I did flaunt with the heavy metal look but I didn’t really feel part of it as I had a broad musical taste at 14.
I was more of a chart nerd!
No tribe – I like to think I was unique in my sartorial choices.
Nah!
Early attempts at a Mod-ish look (a la Paul Weller) morphed into a mash-up of Madness and Dexys – Harrington Jacket or Donkey Jacket, Wooly Hat, and a pair of Jam shoes (my one “real” Mod thing)
Soon after it started to get a bit punk/a bit Metal (ie very scruffy – bad hair, ripped jeans, often worn with a Football shirt (probably West Ham, Reading, England or Brazil).
My first proper job supplied the money for the bikers leather jacket (worn with the cut-off denim jacket) which stayed for several years.
A more responsible job, and kids, led to the standard of jeans, t-shirt and jumper – and there it stays.
My one sop to the past is the Fishtail Parka with furry hood (sadly I was “Strongly advised” NOT to have the one with the Target logo on the back)
I sort of went for a new romantic look – billowy, too-large shirts that were an attempt to hide my emaciated, lumbering and awkward teenage frame. I aspired to cultivate a look that combined Ian Maculloch, John Taylor, David Byrne* and Morrissey. This combo resulted in me looking like a badly dressed, a 6 foot 5 boiled twiglet with an oily complexion that Jackson Pollock would have gazed upon and described as “a bit much”. One summer holiday at the age of 16 I bravely wore a T shirt to a pub and one witty regular at the bat asked me if I’d just been liberated from Belsen. How we (they) laughed! Winter was better because a huge French naval coat was warm and made me look imposing enough to avoid (most of the time) being duffed up. The avoidance of being attacked was a big part of growing up, so flamboyance was never going to be on the agenda.
In 2019 of course I would love to have that kind of physique again – but as they say, youth is wasted on the young.
*when David Byrne said he wore the famous big suit because it made his head look smaller…I have no doubt he was telling the truth. When he was younger and much thinner – he did have an oversized head in relation to the rest of him.
@black-celebration
Emaciated AND lumbering, quite a look!
Me, new waver, nwobhmer, sullen indie kid/goth lite, semi-baggy (curtains but no flares thank you very much) and general slide into normaldom. If it’s not blue or grey I’m unlikely to wear it.