So I was driving home from school the other day. At a red light I pulled up right along side this "pimped out" civic with ultra-black, tinted windows. Inside the car was a skinny white kid blasting Ja Rule with his super-high bass . He, of course, was wearing his baggy urban uniform that was seven or eight times too big for him. You know, "Playaz 69" jersey, FUBU pants, backwards visor, etc.
Jeez, what a poor, misguided stereotype. Then I looked at myself.
I was wearing my four year old, paint covered vans, courds from the local thrift store, an ugly button-up shirt from the mid-90s. I was blasting The Decemberists in my shitty, 1991 Ford Tempo on my shitty, half-broken stero. I have that poorly cut, shaggy, tasseled haircut. I'm an English major. I'm an indie-kid.
Now, I always kind of joked around about it with my friends. I always knew I appreciated the delcious indie sounds... but this? I didn't ever want to think I was so easy to drop into a sub-culture just by someone looking at me. Crap, now what I do?
I mean, I could try to not be so stereotypical... but since it just kind of happened one day, and I never made the decision to be "an indie kid", wouldn't un-happening it make me a sell-out poser? Am I being true to myself by wearing ugly shirts because it's ironic, or is it impossible to be true to one's self if they fit so well into a Stereo Type.
These are questions that are rocking the very foundation of my being.
