Wednesday, December 4, 2013

Begrudgingly Grunge

Grunge has been having a revival lately. We are surrounded by combat boots, floral prints, slip dresses, plaid shirts, and chunky sweaters. Even backpacks and shirts tied around your waist have come back. It is all oh-so-familiar and so foreign at the same time.

I grew up in the 90's. They are MY time, my coming of age decade. I remember the music, so perfectly reflective of our teenage angst. Listening to Nirvana, blasting them through the headphones of my Walkman, as I walked in the dense fog so common during those cold fall days. Completely invisible to the world, immersed only in mine. One made of dreams, hopes, but also confusion and uncertainty. A time filled with Seattle-esque colors, so vivid yet faded, like my feelings, intense and rarified. Falling in and out of love, feeling out of place in a small-minded town, sparkling dreams that seemed so out of reach. 

The 90's were years of growth, of learning what it means to not be a child, becoming aware of myself, and struggling with being in my own skin. 

The 90's are my years. Grunge expressed the feeling of a whole generation, through music and also through fashion. The fashion fit my mood, my need to disappear in those boyish plaid shirts, and the need to look tougher, rebellious, yet poetic and romantic at the same time. They made me feel more like the girl I wanted to be.

So, as much as I love myself an oversized sweater, and as much as the nostalgia is tempting me to buy a pair of Doc Martens, it all feels a little soul-less, fabricated, inauthentic. Yet, I can embrace the new grunge, even if that special time is long gone. 

And I will embrace it as an homage to and celebration of that good provincial girl, the dreamer, the romantic, the seeker, the one who walked hesitantly through life, stretching the sleeves of her sweater, covering her bitten nails, peeking from behind the curtain of her hair... Smelling like teen spirit.


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