cut from a cloth
Apr. 10th, 2003 01:29 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
quislibetThere's a woman standing in front of the library who is pear-shaped and wearing a purple cloak. I feel like I could go strike up a conversation about her favorite books and movies with ease.
Another woman on the T this morning, affecting the butch punk grrl look, had every sort of left-leaning cause represented by her numerous buttons
and pins on her bookbag, from rainbows to free Mumia to no blood for oil to pro-choice to animal liberation to ... well, you can probably fill them all in. And many of these are indeed fine and good, but somehow seeing them all together in vast array makes me want to roll my eyes, where, were they presented individually, I might note them with approval. But the effect is: oh, trade you an extra Leonard Pelletier for a Meat is Murder, I don't have one of those yet.
Probably I'm just being cynical.
It just never ceases to amaze me, alternative conformity -- even as I tend to fall into that trap myself. I'm getting more and more self-conscious about wearing my black trenchcoat when I'm otherwise all in black. That's not easy to avoid, given my wardrobe. Maybe I should start painting my nails again, grow a ponytail, and wear a dice bag like an amulet.
---
Speaking of subcultural conformity, tomorrow night J and I will be decked out just like everyone else for a rare visit to "Hell" at Man Ray. U Must Go.
---
For no good reason whatsoever I just remembered this: When Cat B. used to work here, she had an action figure of the late wrestler Junkyard Dog posed in the window. Usually obscured from within the office by a curtain, she forgot it or bequeathed it to us when she moved north. It sat there for many months after, largely forgotten by us but still visible to anyone walking by outside. One day, a very kind but concerned African grad student of theology stopped in to ask Cat's successor what was up with the chained black man in the window..
Another woman on the T this morning, affecting the butch punk grrl look, had every sort of left-leaning cause represented by her numerous buttons
and pins on her bookbag, from rainbows to free Mumia to no blood for oil to pro-choice to animal liberation to ... well, you can probably fill them all in. And many of these are indeed fine and good, but somehow seeing them all together in vast array makes me want to roll my eyes, where, were they presented individually, I might note them with approval. But the effect is: oh, trade you an extra Leonard Pelletier for a Meat is Murder, I don't have one of those yet.
Probably I'm just being cynical.
It just never ceases to amaze me, alternative conformity -- even as I tend to fall into that trap myself. I'm getting more and more self-conscious about wearing my black trenchcoat when I'm otherwise all in black. That's not easy to avoid, given my wardrobe. Maybe I should start painting my nails again, grow a ponytail, and wear a dice bag like an amulet.
---
Speaking of subcultural conformity, tomorrow night J and I will be decked out just like everyone else for a rare visit to "Hell" at Man Ray. U Must Go.
---
For no good reason whatsoever I just remembered this: When Cat B. used to work here, she had an action figure of the late wrestler Junkyard Dog posed in the window. Usually obscured from within the office by a curtain, she forgot it or bequeathed it to us when she moved north. It sat there for many months after, largely forgotten by us but still visible to anyone walking by outside. One day, a very kind but concerned African grad student of theology stopped in to ask Cat's successor what was up with the chained black man in the window..
