I was recently catapulted back to the 90’s. My 20’s. Let me explain.
I walked into a bar (this isn’t the start of a joke, honest). In the corner, having a few refreshments, were a small group of youngsters. Probably about 8 in total. A couple were dressed gothic style. You know, the black clothes, the make-up. Another couple were most certainly embracing the punk look. Beautiful pink hair, shaped Mohican style. Goodness knows how long that takes to create, I wondered. And of course, the obligatory leather trousers.
The others were dressed well, if rather plainly. Nondescript. Yes, that’s it. Nondescript. Which is totally fine. I bought my pint and people watch for a little. And my conclusion? There was a real beauty about how that group of interacted with each other. Their image certainly caught the eye and they were clearly a close group of pals. The more conservatively dressed among the group didn’t seem at all fazed about the bold statements being made by their pals. I like to think they rather admired it, to be honest. And without sounding like a preacher man here, surely this is how we should all live our lives. Being us. Different. Individuals.
I mentioned it took me back to my 20’s. I wasn’t goth or punk but I was certainly different. It wasn’t an act or a craving for attention, it was just how I wanted to be. I played Saturday afternoon football. I was a hard tackling defender. After our weekly match, it would be beers with team mates then off we trotted home, to get spruced up and meet back up for more socialising, beers and clubbing.
Now, when we gathered once again (sometimes after literally doing the revolving door change at home), I was the one dressed differently. It we were a group of 8, 7 of the boys would have jeans and a shirt on – very smart. But invariably, I would meet them with my favourite crushed velvet purple shirt and my black satin trousers. Picture a mix of Jarvis Cocker and Marc Almond. You get the look.
But you know something, the beauty of my pals was they could see past the rather extravagant dress attire (extravagant for the industrial town of Greenock). Aye, on arrival there would be the odd reference to ‘big man, is that your living room curtains yer wearing tonight’. But it was always with warmth. They just knew and accepted difference.
Ok, what is my overarching point here? Again, without this sounding like I have my soap box out (incidentally, my Irish grandfather was actually a preacher with his own soap box, addressing the shipyard workers about the good lord, after their shift, on their way to the pub. And you think you have a hard job), my point is to be yourself. Push the boundaries of your look and your dress attire. Look and feel and wear what makes you…you. I once overheard someone say to their pal ‘I fancy getting a tattoo but what would people think’. Who cares what people think!
In our society, there is quite rightly a high level of promotion and encouragement around diversity and how we should all be accepted, no matter what. Hear, hear, I say.
Perhaps diversity starts from within. Be true to you first and foremost and your individuality will follow. It could be a great start. And if anyone knows where to purchase a 90’s crushed velvet purple shirt, or a black satin equivalent, do me a favour and drop me a note.
Be you. Be different. It’s good for the soul.
P.S. I once went to a work’s social event wearing a pair of white shoes. I might as well have walked in naked.
Photo by <a href=”https://stockcake.com/i/gothic-urban-style_483848_808237″>Stockcake</a>
