Last edited by Alex Roest (2010-01-01 01:04:14)

good questions raised. for me, being the shallow git i am (or so mrs heikki wryly notes..), it varies. these days thoug, mostly the i (at least think) i wear the stuff i love BUT i'd be lying to myself if i didn't admit there's some (pseudo-rebellious) need to set myself apart, although in a subtle way.

I remember waiting outside the Gate Cinema sometime in mid 83 i would suspect, wearing weejuns, westaway crew neck, OCBD etc etc with a pal of mine who was a ringer for Redford in Barefoot in the Park also kitted out from JS / Flip and then suddenly seeing Kevin Rowland pop out from the alley down the side wearing strange knee length boxing boots and stubby ponytail and looking really nervous. He was gesturing back into the alley and after a few seconds the whole of Dexy's appeared wearing the same garb, half of them looking reluctant as hell to come out onto the main rd dressed like that.

I laughed so hard.


I do like the guy though and have since much mellowed in my hard line approach... It's probably hard for younger (and non british) readers to really understand the fierce tribal nature of clothing statements up to late 80s. It can only be likened to a gang mentality even if draped in Brooks oxford and not LA Ink...

It's a pity KR didn't believe in the look enough to stick with it over the years.......

Last edited by Chris_H (2010-01-07 05:19:38)

That comment about KR really makes me larf...  and what Chris_H had to say, well, it speaks for itself... 
DMR had appeared in a trendy club in my home town wearing odder kit than that, pre-YSR.

In 89/90 my friends and I were hanging around chatting on the corner of Frith Street and Soho Square. This was at the height of our Purist Ivy Mania and we were fully decked out in all the classic elements of The Look. Mr Rowland came bowling round the corner, dressed in some nonsense look-at-me narcissistic outfit, saw us, slowed down to take in the scene before him, then kept on turning round to check us out at regular intervals. He was clearly hooked on The Look, but being a showbiz, 'creative' narcissist was incapable of remaining committed to it in any form. Had Frosty been with us that day I believe he may have spontaneously combusted with Ivy erotic fulfillment. On the same corner in the same way a few weeks later Terence Trent D'Ickhead (remember him?), then at the height of his fame, strode past us in full pop star rig-out. Oh how we enjoyed giving him a collective withering look. Terence was never Ivy. though he was wearing white Levis with his biker boots, as I recall.

For a brief moment in time I really rated TTD. I bought a cd based on his Wishing Well single? Then he seemed to disappear and I began to question my own judgement.