I know someone who seems to be stuck on couples, like as a target of annoyance and all that's wrong with the world, but I'm not sure she even realizes this. The other friend who noticed says my bugaboo is millennials but that's not really fair because I'm well aware of my bias, or rather, the ease with which I get miffed at my generation's blip and demise. I'm not delusional. I was thankful, though, to start seeing the mention of Generation Z. Oh, yes, their day is coming.
The NYC Popfest was this weekend and attracts a curious mix of old-school twee-sters of the K Records, Slumberland persuasion as well as second-gen (or is it third-gen? This was discussed) fans who came to this scene via bands like Pains of Being Pure At Heart. Sunday, there was an informal show at a performance space/semi-backyard in Ridgewood, near the Bushwick border which is the most millennial-baity neighborhood of all. I was looking for trends.
And I got them, mostly summarized in this one photo. Sorry to be all People of Walmart, but this is important.
1. What I'm calling the doodle tattoo. Lots of kids have this style where it looks like you let your friends scribble funny pictures on you one night with a ballpoint pen, kind of like that hoax Korean passport thing, and then it's decided the ink should be permanent. This is a minor example (I don't even know what it is); another young woman had messy line drawings all over her calves and the exposed parts of her sides I could see through the cut out arm holes in her t-shirt.
2. Doc Martens, duh. I can't do this, but two of friends that were with me, mid-30s, early-40s were both wearing a pair, one purple standard, one black and sparkly. But these were low-top with thick folded over socks, which is a '90s spirit I will never be able to get behind. Leggings, ok, even some acid wash, tights under shorts, but rolled-down socks? Never.
3. Ok, this is what I was most fascinated by. The children are our future and I truly believe that they will get back on board with pubic hair. I'm sure it's already infiltrated the hipper circles, and then it'll trickle down. I can't see strangers' pubes, BUT this girl had hairy legs, which kind of blew my mind. This wasn't a hippie.
There was some serious normcore happening.
Not pictured, were a few large girls with short skirts and exposed midriffs, a comfort-level that is entirely generational and that I respect much. I was disappointed to not see any baby backpacks.
While likely not a millennial–the singer, who's the only original member, certainly isn't–I was also mesmerized by the California chic keyboardist in Rocketship (who haven't had a record since 2006 and amazed everyone with how good they sounded). Though he very well could've been a millennial because that seemed to be the trend in many other bands I saw earlier that weekend with middle-aged male frontmen and lady backup singers who were in grade school at best when these bands were in their prime.
Out of nowhere, I've been obsessed with dyeing my hair a deep violet-brown, which is pretty '90s. I've decided to embrace the '90s even if you risk being mistaken for a hold-out. (Yes! And a friend from college told me he's going to get a Caesar cut, which if anyone could pull off he could.) At least I'm not wearing crushed velvet, which was also spied at this show (as well as elevator creepers, which I consider '80s along with Docs, but you know). But I've spent the last year growing out my natural color, so it seems like kind of a waste, not to mention that it will look good for a few weeks and then the silvery roots will pop back out. Such decisions.