I know you’re not vibesy and so do you
How much were your Air Max?
I’m not cool, and I will never be vibesy. And you won’t be either. Stop pretending. This has come to be an accepted path of life for me – I attempted some tangible vibes once when I bought some maroon Doc Martens (which are now gathering dust under my bed), and looked like a complete idiot. And so do you.
Trying to be wavey is like forcing yourself to be funny – if it’s not natural, it doesn’t sit properly with the people around you. It’s as poorly disguised as your public school roots which came spilling out after one too many toffee vodkas in Lounge.
You know, the night that ended with you shouting Jerusalem at the top of your voice outside Pam Pam and crying about how you really wished you’d taken that exeat to see your dying labrador.
Just like we all knew you were actually quite posh, we all know you’re not vibesy. So take the bloody snapback off.
Don’t get me wrong, I know what’s cool. New Balance, chokers and big jumpers, probably bought from a suitably indie shop somewhere on Park Street. It’s just that I’m more suited to jeans, boots and a navy blue cashmere jumper.
Sometimes, my jumper might be pink, dependent on how outrageous I’m feeling. Crazy, wild even. But it’s what I know and love. Try and take me away from my boots and I’ll throw my dusty DMs at you. Which you’d probably like, because, you know, they’re vintage.
I don’t mind not being vibesy, it’s the people who pretend to be that get me down. You don’t look indie, you look like a pillock, and you can spot the half-arsed attempts from miles off. Those stonewashed jeans aren’t quite the right shade of washed out blue, and we all know it.
You probably think I’m jealous of your faux vintage shirts. I’m not. I know they’re made of acrylic. Buy quality, not a viscose substitute for it.
At least my hair doesn’t go static if I take my jumper off, the worst that’ll happen is I’ll end up with my glasses (which I wear because I need them, not as a fashion statement) halfway across my face.
I do occasionally wear something “alternative” – I wear crop tops out (gasp), I have a pair of Supergas (they’re comfy) and I own a denim jacket (I’ve worn it twice). By all means have a little bit of edge, but becoming an octagon when you’re actually a square is ridiculous.
Of course, there’s nothing wrong with street style if you can pull it off. My flatmate Zoe is my indie friend. Motion is her favourite club, she has plentiful supplies of edgy jumpers and is always on hand to tell me that today, I really do look like my mum.
She’s great, but the best thing is, she’s not a pretentious tool about it. She knows that I’m not ever going to be indie, vibesy, alternative, hipster or whatever else. She accepts me for the floppy-haired, jumper-loving idiot I am.
It’s fine if you’re actually a bit wavey, if you know bands that are so underground they’re in Australia, and if you’ve really been to all the gigs you say you have. But please, if you’re not, stop pretending and get back to your loafer and sock combo. You know who you are.
*The Air Max used here were £95, in case you were wondering