Showing posts with label Fashion fascism. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Fashion fascism. Show all posts

Tuesday, 25 March 2008

This fall



I have noticed a number of people wearing those hideous clown like two colour rugby shorts. I was trying to find you all pictures online, but I realise that no search engine understood the concept clown shorts. I went to the source instead, and found out they are known as harlequin shorts. A short by any other name would look as tacky. Rest assured, my viewing experiences have not been nice.

Sunday, 27 January 2008

Putting on the ritz

Last night I went to see some bands at the backstage. I finally made it there! I plucked up my courage and skulked down Bath St, terrified that at any moment I might be abducted into a conga line, and dived in to see a few acts.
My first impression was more favourable than that I had of the Woolshed, its previous incarnation. I thought it looked less scungy and had a more congenial crowd. Then I realised that there was still a little bit of the woolshed left, possibly literally, on the sticky beer-glued floors.
The headline act was the Ruby Suns, with support from Pikelete & Stefanimal. I enjoyed the Stefanimal bit, but found Pikelete and the Ruby Suns a bit too sweet and twee. I couldn't get a handle on it at the time, but I realised later on that they just weren't negative enough. Super harmonies reminiscent of 60s pop do nothing for me, and contrary to popular belief that drum opening from the Ronnettes Be My Baby is tired. so it wasn't as relentlessly saccharine as label mates the Brunettes, but it reminded me of them a bit too much for comfort, despite the "rock out" breaks. Ryan McPhun was all party time in a wifebeater, and the rest of the crowd distressed me with their espousal of tight tight tight jeans, and more horrific, western shirts.
I am going to have to have a wardrobe rethink.