Showing posts with label FASHION. Show all posts
Showing posts with label FASHION. Show all posts

Wednesday, September 29, 2021

NOW-ism - Nik Cohn and George Melly's thoughts on youth culture











from Nik Cohn's Today There Are No Gentlemen, a shadow history of social change in the UK as reflected in men's clothing

cf this earlier post about George Melly's Revolt into Style and youth culture's NOW-ism













  



























What I commented then: 

When a few years ago I first read these passages from George Melly's Revolt Into Style -- specifically
 the lines about pop culture being "the country of 'Now'" and the insistence that youth “denies having any history. The words 'Do you remember' are the filthiest in its language" , but the other stuff too, pages of it -- I thought, "yes, yes, this is me, this is where I'm coming from".was written in the late Sixties (seemingly between the end of 1966 and early 1968)  * so it's about the Sixties, with a little bit on the Fifties-as-Sixties-prequel, the lead up to the Sixties. And really it's about the early-to-mid Sixties: that neophiliac surge,  1963-1967, the youth-affluence-confidence drive to jettison-the-imperial-British-past (the Victoriana and Edwardiana of psychedelia is not nostalgic, Melly argues convincingly but blithely iconolastic, making a merry nonsense of jingoism and propriety and stiff 'n' starched formality - that's the meaning of the Lord Kitchener poster, the brass bed-frame wheeled around London in The Knack, shops like Granny Takes A Trip and I Was Lord Kitchener's Valet).

Born in 1963, I assimilated all this through my pores as a small kid, as sense-impressions, absorbing by osmosis the cultural-myth-in-process -- Beatles movies on TV , "Strawberry Fields Forever" and "All You Need Is Love" and "I Am the Walrus" heard on the radio, mini-skirts and hot pants and hippie hair in the streets, Dee Time on teevee. And then in the Seventies I  solidified and fortified this ideology through my pre-teen and early teen cultural choices: Monty Python and satire of various kinds;  science fiction of the New Worlds / inner space kind. Comedy (the post-Goons, absurdist-surrealist-taboo-busting kind I gravitated towards) and the mind-expanding and consciousness-raising sort of s.f. (i.e. anti-fantasy, the absolute opposite of sword'n'sorcery Tolkien-in-space) were both part of the same Liberation current in which music played such a huge and central role during the Sixties.

And then when I got into music, it was the renovated version of that ideology (postpunk ) that I embraced, while equally discovering and exploring the Sixties as very recent and still to some extent unfolding history (I devoured Playpower, The Making of a Counterculture: Reflections on the Technocratic Society and Its Youthful Opposition, The Dialectic of Sex, Life Against Death and Love's Body, Leaving the 20th Century: The Incomplete Work of the Situationist International, The Female Eunuch, Bomb Culture, etc etc... watched If... etc etc...   listened to The Doors, the Stones, and now with conscious ears, The Beatles).

A child, a creature, of the Sixties -- that's me.

There are those now who would say the ideas and the ideals, the epistemic horizon of thought and sensibility, represented by that vague term "the Sixties" (really a blurry longer period from the mid- Fifties through to the mid Seventies, with its after-echoes and resurgences that  include postpunk, bliss-rock, and rave), they would say it was all illusion, all delusion. Unrealistic. The cultural superstructure to an unsustainable substructure of prosperity and growth fueled by cheap energy and big-spending governments dedicated to long term exploratory projects.  A bubble.

But for better or worse, it's been the wind beneath my wings, the energy that has propelled me through all I've done.  It's my make-up, my make-believe. Too late to get off that bus now.  The process of identity-formation is complete!

I do wonder what generative power the current "everything is a remix"/"nothing new under the sun" episteme will prove to have over the long term -  rooted as it is in an insidious downscaling-of-expectations, an implicit defeatism. Recycling might be sound and sensible, but it doesn't promise to be spectacular.


* Of course Melly is "wrong", in the sense that his insistence that pop is inherently anti-nostalgic and intrinsically forward-looking / present-focused would be disproved very soon indeed. His "country of Now" claim in Revolt Into Style is deployed again the section on trad jazz, which he argues was never  a true pop phenomenon, despite its exuberant energy and informality,  because a/ it wasn't the exclusive property of youth and b/ it was a a revival. But by the time Revolt gets into the bookshops, pop is deep into its own revival - the Fifties rock'n'roll revival -- proving that pop has an inherent capacity to fold back on itself, succumb to nostalgia for its own youth, the era of its emergence.  Melly didn't see that coming. (Nor did he envsion the "historical turn" represented by The Band, Fairport Convention, et al - where the past is not turned into a plaything, but is taken seriously).  Nonetheless I think Melly is right to identify the Now!ist, neophiliac, generative-not-reiterative side of pop's soul as its primary motor. Certainly the  righteous side of its soul, the side worth siding with.


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The full pages from Nik Cohn's Today There Are No Gentlemen






Wednesday, December 30, 2020

fashion forward (death of a futurist)

 


                                                           RIP Pierre Cardin 


                                             


"The clothes that I prefer are those I invent for a life that doesn't exist yet--the world of tomorrow"' - Pierre Cardin, 1990, looking back on his past as a futurist fashion-designer.

                                                                                           


                                                  


                                              

                                                               












































                                            







                                               

                                                            (this clip misidentified - it's Paco Rabanne, fellow futurist) 

                                        


                                               


                            




Friday, August 17, 2012



"The retro trend is present on all the runways. From the roaring twenties to the seventies, references of the past inspire the designers!"

Revival simultaneity -- Fifties, Sixties, Seventies, Twenties -- all being ransacked by today's leading designers. But no one retro era dominating the contemporary runway or streets.

In The Radicant, Nicolas Bourriaud talks about how fashion in the modern era is no longer about waves but about wavelets: you don’t have big fashion looks that everybody follows but instead an array of looks coexisting, all kinds of subcultural styles and vintage chics.  There is no uniformity, but there is also never a moment of definitive supercession, when a styles becomes démodé. The image I got from Bourriaud’s trope of waves versus wavelets was that childhood game when you’re in the swimming pool and you all cling to the side and move your bodies in synch. That creates a tsunami effect. As soon as you stop, though, the pool reverts to its normal omnidirectional chaos of ripples. That is a potent visual image for me of hyperstasis.  The analogy shows how unity and synchrony create a more dynamic and shapely cultural field.

Fashion was the first to get to this state (hyperstasis)...  it pioneered what later transpired in music.

 One of the defining attributes of hyperstasis is endless recursion...  the fact that the Sixties have already been revisited countless times in fashion before (starting when? in the Eighties? or even earlier?) doesn't prevent a designer from revisiting them again....   you just have to wait a reasonable interval, and then the archival resource is ripe for swiping again

C.f. the endless returns and re-runs of sixties garage within underground rock