Thinking About The Death Of Subcultures. Like I Haven’t Seen Any Goth Kids Or Punks Or Any Obvious

Thinking about the death of subcultures. Like I haven’t seen any goth kids or punks or any obvious subcultural movements in years. And obviously part of that is just cultural change, but when I think of modern subcultures the only thing I can think of are those tiktok alternative people, like egirls, but there isn’t that sense of a real “scene” going on with their own lifestyles and music and events, like lived experience that’s shared. I feel like what we might call modern subcultures are all reduced to mere aesthetics and they’re all mostly online, and they all look way too pretty – their make up is always perfect and their clothes are perfectly aesthetic and there’s none of that deliberate freakishness going on; literally grunginess itself has been commodified. There’s none of the real expression of confusion and anger that came with growing up in a world that you felt on some level was fucked up but you couldn’t express why, so you expressed it by dressing like a freak, by looking kinda deliberately out of place. I want that spirit back because this is what subcultures were about. Let’s bring back real subculture, not the alienated commodified version that’s based on aesthetics and has been reduced to social media, but the kind where you actually go out looking completely unhinged on purpose to disrupt. The kind where you meet other people and feel a sense of empowerment in your willing difference from the mainstream, and by that I mean the kind that is explicitly anticapitalist.

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Parveen Babi

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happy 21st of september people

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BREAKING NEWS

The World’s First Unmanned Flying Deskset allegedly knocked Mr. Perry off the face of the planet and his son, inventor Neil Perry won a Tony for his brilliant performance in an off broadway, local production (at Henley Hall) as Puck in A Midsummer Night’s Dream.

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less romanticizing high school more media about how being 17 is the worst human experience imaginable

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“Not everyone can be gay in stranger things! It was the 80s!”

Just wait until they hear about the Dead Poets Society fandom and the Marauders Era fandom

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3 years ago

i just found a couple of CDs from middle school and godd the nostalgiaaa

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idk why but it just is

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3 years ago

Being friends with crust punks is wild. I knew a guy who got a tattoo of a train on his leg and then the next week he lost his legs trainhopping. When I was like 16 I was on the roof of a house during a party and the cops rolled up. I stayed put figuring the cops weren’t gonna look on the fuckin roof and I watched this same guy roll out in his wheelchair and slash the cops tires.

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uttermonstrosity

3 years ago

Twenty-three

One day you wake up and you’re twenty-three and you can’t remember what it feels like to be seventeen but you still cry to your mother after a bad day and you look a little older but you don’t really feel it. One day you’re twenty-three and your great-aunt is telling you how mature you look and how you grew a little taller but inside you still remember sitting under the oak tree reading with no meetings tomorrow and no rent to pay and the only thing you can think about is how at seventeen you thought at twenty-three you would know everything and now you can’t remember how you got from there to here. But seventeen-year-old you was wrong because you know only some things and not everything.

You know that coffee tastes better in the mornings and your home isn’t your home anymore; it’s “Mum and Dad’s”. You know your car needs servicing every six months and groceries are harder to do after breakups. She liked cookie dough and walnuts and strawberry-flavored milk and now every time you go to the store you can’t buy spaghetti without remembering it was a Friday night and she kissed you for the first time and the heat from her skin could have set your entire place on fire. One day you’re twenty-three and you’re trying to explain to a seventeen-year-old all the mistakes you made so they won’t make them too, when all you really want is for someone to realize you still don’t have the first clue.

─ Courtney Peppernell, Pillow Thoughts

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