Standard Pubeless Teenager: DC shoes, baggy jeans, hoodie and a bag full of warhammer paraphernalia comes into view and I have the overwhelming urge to laugh at him for being such a ‘Rock Kid’™ until I realise that I was the exact same about 7 years ago. Totally uncool, with my Papa Roach and Linkin Park CD’s thinking I was an individual, only to realise that I was just one member of the bulging angsty pseudo-goth army.
Even now, many years later, when you categorise people by their values, clothes, attitudes, accents, jobs or their hobbies everyone still falls into a pretty small number of pigeonholes. Sounds cruel but I can say that I’ve never met someone who is truly unique - the fact I can’t remember anyone special enough proves it. Even friends (including your best ones – when looked at objectively) can still be tagged under mass-labels.
Maybe it’s a feature of capitalism, because most brands of clothes / glasses / aftershave have certain basic ideas attached to them, people pretend that these things say something about them. Maybe it’s a nature thing and how we all copy each other if we think it’s cool, for personal gain. Maybe it’s all about being part of a crowd, changing to fit in with a larger group of people.
Maybe I've just lost all rationality after spending several hours wrestling among those 3,000 pensioners in my triumphant mission to complete Christmas shopping. Now for the wrapping and hiding bit... Joy.
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