Ravers, Skaters,
Pirates and Satanists
Reflections on high school fashion
BY ANNA GRACE
L
Colored Tag Holders
Hippie Couture
I was having a serious conversation with a particularly hip
young man in an Abercrombie shirt and gazillion-dollar jeans.
As we spoke, I noticed a little piece of green plastic sticking out
from the shoulder of his shirt. It was a colored tag holder, the
kind that Goodwill uses to differentiate prices. I figured he
must have forgotten to cut it off, so when we’d finished with
the business at hand I said, very politely, “I think you have a
tag holder still attached to your shirt.” He turned his head and
tugged at it affectionately, “Yeah, the shirt’s from Goodwill.”
Then after a pause he said proudly, “I hope you don’t think I’d
shop at Abercrombie & Fitch.” No, of course not; this kid was
too cool for the mall. Actual cool is buying expensive, trendy
clothes at Goodwill, and leaving the tag in. Your shirt can say
ABERCROMBIE six ways to Sunday so long as you didn’t
actually buy it there.
Hippie couture, as one eloquent
student termed it, is expensive
clothing worn to project an inde-
pendent, free-spirit look. Everybody
can see the irony in it, and no one
would claim it as his or her style, yet
it is pervasive. This is not to say that
all hippie teens wear expensive
clothing, not by a long shot (see the
previous information on Goodwill
tag holders). According to one stu-
dent, youth often begin their high
school careers at South with preppy
clothing and ease into a more colorful,
more casual hippie look as they get
older. I think there is something in the
very walls of South that inspires them to
let their hair grow shaggy and wear a
beaded necklace, and it is only the very
strongest of souls who can reject it. I’ve
noticed administrators wearing faded jeans
with Birks — and not on a Friday. Yet there
are plenty of students at South who reject
their parents’ Saturday Market style and dress
unashamedly in name brands. There is some-
Pirates
It will not surprise anyone to learn that there are a number
of pirates attending class at South, wearing tri-cornered hats
and medallions of Aztec gold around their necks. Aside from a
general desire to be more like Johnny Depp (which is whole-
heartedly supported by this author), what is the allure of emu-
lating some historically filthy, rat-eating miscreant? These lat-
ter-day pirates seem to be tapping into a sense of adventure and
I have seen a boy hike his pants up 27 times in a five-minute speech.
purpose. A pirate is rebellious but not a slacker. A pirate might
learn the material he’s being taught, but he’s not to be bothered
with homework. And South’s pirates are, of course, a highlight
of any journey through the halls.
thing kind of cute about a little critter embroidered
proudly on the breast of a shirt. Hollister, Abercrombie,
Gap, Torrid, American Eagle and Old Navy remain the
favorites.
WILL GENT NEEDS THAT BELT! PHOTO BY MORA REINKA
ast Thursday my fourth period class was home to the following fashion state-
ments; a large, soccer-ball-shaped hat and grungy sweatshirt, an impossibly
short denim skirt worn with enormous, knee high, fuzzy boots, a girl in a tuxe-
do, and a T-shirt summarizing all major world philosophies by their take on “Shit hap-
pens.” That was the front row.
As I scanned to the back, taking in every imaginable ensemble, I wondered what
has happened to high school fashion, the days of the late 1980s that I remember so
well from my own student days at South. Gone are the simple days of preps in trendy
Gap attire and a few different cliques each in their own uniform of rebellion. Most
students at South claim to “wear whatever they want.” With a minimum of dress
code rules (shirt and shoes are required, but the handbook makes no statement at
all regarding pants) and parents eager to foster creativity and independent
thinking, most students are wearing outfits of their choice. That doesn’t mean
the outfits are not chosen to convey a message. But what does an oversized,
soccer-ball-shaped hat mean? I’ve assembled a few observations and reflec-
tions on various South Eugene trends to help the older folk — that is, those
beyond 18 — decode high school fashion.
JANUARY 11, 2007 13