Tuesday, 24 February 2009
Thursday, 19 February 2009
Wednesday, 18 February 2009
(I'm sorry to name names, man, but you've gotta break a few Moz-coiffed eggs to make a blog omelette.)
Evidently Morrisey sent out a memo via email - which, I assume, he CC'ed to Hedi Slimane and Matthew Stone - some time previously, and you all responded in your droves (if you didn't get the email, by the way, then I'm sorry to tell you that you're completely Goddamn irrelevant and should probably just stop reading this now.) As much as I appreciate the commitment with which everyone has wholeheartedly gone about making this shit happen - particularly those of you who had to get a perm - I think we can all agree that it's all gone too far, really. One day it's three of you outside the Old Blue Last in your respective "ironic" t-shirts (Oh look, it's got Rod Stewart on, how droll!) , and the next it's spreading like, well, like Gonorrhea in the toilets of that selfsame pub.
Do you have any idea how fucking contrite this is all starting to look? The last time we had a haircut this ubiquitous was when women started getting The Rachel, and we all know what happened to Jennifer Anniston. Do you want to be the next Jennifer fucking Anniston, Camberwell Quiffers? Do you want to end up, if the tabloids are to be believed, having a miserable time holidaying in Barbados with - oh! The indignity! - your best friend and her husband, wishing that someone would just impregnate you NOW, RIGHT NOW? Do you want to star in an adaptation of a self-help book? Is that what you want? I'm going to suggest that we bring back a new hairstyle from the pop-culture graveyard instead - remember when Phil Oakey from the Human League had half of his hair long, and half of it shaved? That was really quite cool, when I look back on it. Or how about Prince's hairstyle in the video for When Dove Cry? That bit where he's crawling out of the bath makes me feel all tingly downstairs. See? Not all bad! It's not that I hate that Morrisey thing you have going on, honest. Initially, I actually found it quite sexy. But - as your own beloved Moz would have said - heaven knows I'm miserable now.
(Guess who finally got a red leather skirt? What do you mean "Julia Roberts' character from Pretty Woman", asshole? I meant me! And by the way, all your pop-culture references are even more out of date than mine. Burn. And yes, I do tend to delete my short, shit entries, because I'm pernickety. Bite me.)
Sunday, 15 February 2009
Thursday, 12 February 2009
Monday, 9 February 2009
Thursday, 5 February 2009
Wednesday, 4 February 2009
Before you put it to me that this whole blog entry is senseless misandry, I put this to you - maybe I am just being incredibly fucking post-modern and neo-feminist about this, huh? Think about that, wise guy! I could justify my relentless female chauvinism by making reference to the fact that their band appears to be named after Valerie Solanas' Society to Cut Up Men, but I won't for three reasons:
#2. A sneaking suspicion that as some of them are barely of GCSE age this could be mere coincidence.
#3. Checking out a teenage boy's arse is not "Postmodern". Who do I think I am, the Richard Prince of skeeviness?
(In case you're not actually, you know, from East London, here are S.C.U.M in action. I normally fucking hate modern music, and admittedly this probably makes me as Shoreditch as it gets, but what can I say? Hand on heart (heart, officer!), I actually dig them. And, all joking aside, they really are fucking [REDACTED].)