Sunday, January 16, 2011
THIS after 8 tylenol extra strength and a bottle of rum
there's been an influx in the costuming of animal shirts in the population of greater vancouverite teenagers. it's like there was a divorce between the hipster kids, and half of them went to a division of femininity based on audrey hepburn and frou-frou skirts, and the other half were reduced to plaid hunting, nose-piercing attire with borderline lesbian haircuts. the hipsters left their american apparel hoodies in the way side, and both classes either graduated or were demoted from the cotton specifics of being indie. the shitty photography skills, however, are one tradition both classes continue to uphold: the girly now sporting pastel shades of polaroids with their ripoff chanel clutches, and the boyish ones using disposables to document their drunken trailer-trash adventures. the film is just capturing two very different classes of once-unified teens. one photo will boast frilly socks and oxfords, the next will be complimented with hunting socks and thrifted doc martens. the ones less focused on the perfection of their foundation and the barrels of their curls, have brought it upon themselves to host endangered species on their chests. there seems to be a fascination with setting themselves apart and becoming part of a, per se, wolf's ecology for a day. this fad is an ugly outdoing its own expected ugliness; it's like they're fully aware they're the lower class of the indies and are even going beyond the expectations of the superior class to prove the hideousness of their newfound culture. either that, or there's a sudden awareness and knowledged data base about the beauty of big cats on polyster. this in spite of the secreterial patterened tights and 1800s-inspired ruffles sported by the 'better' half of the indie population. it'll be interesting to see if this divorce continues into the summer, or if the indie relationship will be reunited with ray bans and a claim to high waisted denim shorts..