There is no place like home and this my friends is the truth. I'm not patriotic, i'm not not idiotic and it takes more than 3 clicks of a heel to get to Australia. Oh yeah, I have the ruby slippers and I tried it! It doesn't work so easily. Nothing was more appreciated than that of the Oz underground scene. Kids coming together to play their garage tunes. Some more refined than others, some better dressed. Tight shiny American Apparel tights with brogue sneaker creepers and slashed tops. All jean combos with festive untucked shirts...Jeans and thongs (flip flops) cans of beer, munching on lamingtons (a sponge cake) how very dainty for a dusty falling to pieces old used garage that unfortunately rather than dedicating its decaying body to the youth of South Australia (these kids are bored give them an outlet to be creative you stupid morons then the aging population won't age and the kids won't leave) will be turned into more apartments or so i hear...the city becomes a suburb, no where to go, no place to be different. What I found fascinating was the angst these kids have, not due to political injustice, not due to an economic crisis, but out of shear desperation to do something. The only thing these kids have to rebel against is that creativity is put in a box and left on the highest shelf. Instead of encouraging to start they criticize for not being perfect. How can you be perfect if you never try? How can creativity bloom when there is no earth, no roots to draw from? All they have to do is stick together and stick it out. Start!
Nothing ceases to amaze me that in the midst of Rundle Mall (a depressed vanilla slice of shitty fashion if i dare to call it just that, bad quality crap cuts at ridiculous prices and here I was complaining that Milan was expensive I hold my tongue) this shop still exists. Will it be forever that bad taste rules? The upside I suppose i that if anyone has a dire need for a Zoot Suit or electric blue red satin lined suit I am sure you could find something here. It just screams 'The Mask' the mid 90s film that started a generation miss using the word 'smoking'. Can you hear the dryness of my voice?
Like this piece of street art says Jog on! friends go forth be merry and try until your hands bleed.
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