Joey Who?
By Adam D. Miller
If, like me, you were shy throughout much of your high school and university career, you get to know very little about your classmates. Occasionally, you might exchange a word or two about an upcoming assignment or the weather with those seated nearby, but there are certain people who you simply don’t get around to meeting. Such is Jane Doe, a girl I had Intro to Film with in my first year of university. I never knew her name, or anything about her. I just know that on one fateful autumn day, she entered the tutorial wearing a t-shirt depicting the classic photo of Iggy Pop on the cover of Iggy & The Stooges’ Raw Power. I was immediately smitten with this girl I had never exchanged a word with, simply because she liked Iggy Pop, who isn’t even one of my favourite artists! Much like others might get excited when seeing someone reading Robert Frost or Raymond Carver, simply because they fall inside their cultural nest.
I grew up feeling that the clothes we wear imply a lot about our personal identity. I invested in a pair of cowboy boots in my final year of high school, as I was beginning to obsess over Gram Parsons, and explore the good that country music had to offer. Shortly after the theatrical release of High Fidelity, I felt I identified with the main character, Rob, because I too sported a black leather jacket and listened to Elvis Costello. I began forming imaginary conclusions about the people around me based on the clothes they wore. In recent years, I have come to understand just how foolish it was to do so.
Much like my cowboy boots and leather jacket could have just as easily conveyed Alan Jackson and Keanu Reeves, the Mod-ish fashions I saw on classmates did not necessarily mean they collected Stax and Motown forty-fives. In recent years, it seems, that even wearing a shirt depicting a band, film, or cultural artifact, does not necessarily mean you are a fan, or have even heard of that band, film, or cultural artifact.
I recently accompanied my mother and father on a visit to a summer camp where my sister was working as a counselor. When she arrived to greet us, I noticed that she was wearing a pink Ramones t-shirt. I couldn’t help but ask my 17-year old sister, “do you even know who the Ramones are?” She replied with an obvious, “no!” Obviously, the pink should have clued me in. Authentic Ramones t-shirts have always been black. I highly doubt Joey, Johnny, Dee Dee, and Tommy ever graced the stage in purple or lime green. But now that The Strokes are a hit and retro fashions are being bought and sold at relatively high prices, this is a growing phenomenon. There is no law that says “Thou shalt not buy a CBGBs t-shirt unless you can a) identify it as a historical punk rock venue, and b) name five bands that performed there in its heyday.” Because of this, child stars can appear on television wearing the Velvet Underground & Nico t-shirt you desperately wanted in high school.
The moral of the story? Always quiz that girl or guy in the ripped jeans, Doc Martens, and Clash t-shirt before committing to any long-term relationships.
