Tuesday, February 9, 2010

Blame it on the Rock and Roll

I've rebuilt myself from the ground up over the past three years, and every piece of me comes from my music. Oddly enough, it's usually an unconscious process, but when I stop and evaluate, I am what I listen to. It's one of those 1950s arguments, a disgruntled authority figure blaming my attitude, my clothing, my hair on the music.

I can never argue with that.

It's telling, almost too personal to write out what came from where. My attitude, my personality, my flaws, and my insecurities play themselves out in a jumble of lyrics and song titles and melodies. There are too many to spell out, the list would never be complete, and it keeps changing and evolving as I clutch onto new things I love and let go of old lines that I've grown tired of.

I can pin my personality and outlook on life onto a handful of artists, lead singers, lyrics, and liner notes. But that, to me, would be more revealing than nude photographs.

But my style is out there for all to see. My black shining nail polish creates "fingernails that shine like justice." My skinny jeans with snaps up the legs came from William Beckett circa "Snakes on a Plane." My purple hoodie came from Gabe Saporta. The theoretical lip ring is all Frank Iero's fault. And my crazy tights and thigh highs? Blame Amanda Palmer. My "big black boots" are Jet, my hair is Gwen Stefani. My current desire to bastardize my old Catholic school uniform into something punk comes from Lyn-Z. And let's not start on my high school obsession with wanting to be Shirley Manson and be able to look this hot while messing with the concept of "Androgyny".

And if that's just the beginning of my wardrobe, take a breath and imagine my psyche.

But those perfect red pumps that I spent years searching for came from this video:

I bought this album for $2.99 at a used CD store in Harvard Square that went out of business a couple years ago. I spent most of high school wishing I could pull off this look. By the time I hit college, I realized that it wasn't about being able to, it was about just doing it.

Why? Because my music told me that I could be whoever I wanted to be, and that everyone else could fuck off.

1 comment:

cojohns1 said...

Hey Lexie!
I hate to waste a comment on something like this, but I couldn't find an email!

I currently write my own music blog like you do and I have been reading yours for awhile. I think we actually covered the same Cobra show a while back too. I just found out that I'll be the new editor for this awesome music website based in Boston and I"m from the area too as I believe you are as well. Through it there are a lot of perks, like access to shows, I can set up interviews for you, free albums for review. You can check out my stuff at mixandmark.blogspot.com but we cover a lot of similar music and just send me an email at colleen@shrednews.com if you're interested! hope you are :)