Let Them Eat Cake: Punk, Punk, a Punk Rocker

Last term I had this group project.

The assignment was to redesign a brand of our choice, we had one semester. My group did Ralph Lauren as our brand, and we redesigned him as a Punk Fashion designer. At first it seemed odd, unorthodox, and a little radical, but by the end I liked it. I secretly wish I was a punk. Then I could be like fucking cool, not say "like" at unnecessary times, and wear all black while hanging out on street corners with a perpetual scowls. Fighting the man seems kind of romantic.

Instead, I am stuck in poser-ville. My handful of piercings, tattoos, Chuck's, and pseudo-grungy-artsy bullshit doesn't quite cut it. I can't say I am too upset though, after spending 14 weeks "being a fucking punk" as my teachers enthusiastically encouraged, I can now say I prefer punk a la Vivienne Westwood versus Cyber Dog.

For me, the punk appeal lies in it's intellect. They're smart, have political savvy, and information junkies. They know what's up in the world. They're freegans, free lovers... in the words of Weezy Baby, they get stoned first and save the world second, but hey, at least they're saving it! Good for you, you cheeky punk bastards, I'd say you're keeping it fresh, but you're actually keeping it mostly black and latex-y. I still love it, them, all of things punk. My appreciation only grew deeper 14 weeks in, it's actually a very broad group of people. And thanks to them, my life has improved greatly. Moshing? Check. No Doubt [sometimes]? Favorite band ever, check. And where would we be without Kurt Cobain and Court Love? Probably in the same place, but a little less badass.