opinion
Eventually it becomes a get-in, getout scenario, and where’s the fun in that? The old tannies having tea and scones at the Mugg ‘n Bean just cannot help but hold their creamy jam delights mid-air between the plate and their mouth and gawk at you, as you saunter past. And this is just the beginning. It becomes an uncomfortable situation where it feels like you’re defending yourself on the way to grab the cheese and milk, or some new undies from Woolies. And clothes shopping may in fact be the worst. You casually stroll through a shop and suddenly the shop assistant, that looks as if she just jumped out of the Marie-Claire fashion pages, is at your heels: “Can I help you?” She smirks as she gives you the ‘once-over’ as they call it, but in this case its more like the ‘four times-over’. Even though you decline her offer of help, one or more of them seem to constantly be in perfect spying distance, and you cannot help but wonder… why? You attempt to ignore them, and it suddenly dawns on you: They think you’re going to pocket something. So yeah, your tights may have holes in them, and your shoes are more than likely worn and torn, but does this in their minds equate to you being dodgy? The simple answer: Yes. In a society that thrives on first impressions, status and bling, being an alternative woman is
challenging, and people are generally not going to appreciate your unique sense of style. Let me demonstrate with a comparison of the two different thought processes, yours: “I like my holey tights and worn out shoes”, annoying Marie-Claire fashion catalogue shop assistant- “Her clothes have holes in. She is dodgy, she is going to steal that handbag, where’s my panic button? Where’s the security guard?” Then there are the security guards. God only knows why anyone would choose this profession in the first place, but these baton-wielding failed policemen seem to have made it their life’s mission to ‘search and destroy’. If you thought the shop assistant was bad, wait till the security guard catches a glimpse of you. Suddenly he has two eyes on you, one hand on the baton, and the other on the walkie-talkie. These men stand in shops, day in, day out, just clambering for someone to steal something. “Make my time in this place worthwhile, c’mon. Steal something!” While this man will not approach you and ask you any questions, but rather keep you feeling uneasy as you cross the shop floor, their accusatory glances are enough to bring on a severe bout of nausea. These men may in fact be even more offended by your holey tights and worn out shoes than
the shop assistant, and while he surveys the size of the handbag you’re toting, suddenly it feels like you have a target on your back. You feel ashamed as you shuffle out the shop, the glances being enough to make you feel as if you did just steal something. As adverse alternative women, many would say that this is the lifestyle we have chosen. Yes, we have chosen to express ourselves in the manner that we see fit. We have tattoos, piercings, a different sense of style, and we probably have psychobilly playing on our iPods. Yes, we must be dodgy, or satanic, or mentally unstable. I have lived in a small town in the Northern Suburbs of Cape Town for most of life, a place called Brackenfell. And I went to Brackenfell High School. Needless to say, I was one of the ‘weird’ kids, because let’s face it, a lot of us have been living this lifestyle long before guyliner (men wearing eyeliner) and ‘skinnies’ became popular. As women with tattoos, piercings and weird hair, we’ve been this way for quite some time. And while it’s slowly becoming more socially acceptable to have hair looking like a crows nest, we still face judgment on a daily basis. I have experienced this to a vile degree living in this little town. Let me sum it up for you, it’s on the wrong side of the boerewors curtain where brandy, mullets (and not the ‘cool’ ones) thrive. There is even a pub called ‘Cheetahs’. (Dear God, help us all) But looking as I do, that being inked up and pierced, I face persecution, and I become the number one target when shopping. I have Chihuahua-like shop assistants yapping at my heels, keeping a beady eye on me, more than likely chanting ‘eye on the prize, eye on the prize’ in their heads while they do so. While it is highly annoying, we as alternative gals, really just have to get used to it. Rather than getting upset or annoyed, I lean towards the ‘they are simple-minded and cannot help themselves’ mindset. Because: If I had laid into every single person suspecting me of being dodgy, I would have had several lawsuits against my name by now.
JULY 2010
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