Are Youth Subcultures Dead?

Alessandra makes her THREADS debut exploring the impact of fast fashion and the internet on youth subculture…

“If there’s not a rebellious youth culture, there’s no culture at all. It’s absolutely essential. It is the future. This is what we’re supposed to do as a species, is advance ideas.”

— John Lydon 

As someone who moved abroad as soon as I turned 18, I returned home after university thinking it would only be temporary. But then COVID-19 happened, and I had to face my biggest fear: being stuck in my small Italian hometown.

I am the kind of person who keeps everything, from train tickets to old magazines to handwritten notes. So during lockdown, I did what many people who have to stay home alone for months do: I frantically tried to reorganise my old room, looking through boxes full of trinkets and old memories I had not been confronted with for years. My old diaries from my secondary school days were full of newspaper clippings I carefully had pasted onto the pages. Back then, in 2009, Jeffrey Star was not yet the controversial beauty guru he is today, MTV still played music, sometimes, and I was going through my  teenage rebellion phase, listening to Green Day, Blink-182, Evanescence and Paramore, downloading music online to then save on my MP3 player.

“[Back] in 2009, Jeffrey Star was not yet the controversial beauty guru he is today [and] MTV still played music, sometimes...”

Growing up, my clothes were always a way to express myself in a unique way. I was about 12 years old when I started watching MTV and using the internet but it was in 2009 that I discovered what has often been referred to as the noughties’ most defining counter-subculture: emo. I have no idea how it came about, but over that year I consumed an insane amount of media (music, TV, books) that made me fall in love with the idea of being different, and creating a space for myself to explore my personality.

Middle school is probably the most difficult time for any adolescent because it is when the innocence of childhood begins to fade as puberty sets in. The time when your body — this unfamiliar, uncharted territory — starts to attract lascivious looks from boys who view you as nothing more than a piece of meat. And if you do not belong, you find yourself labelled as a social outcast. In hindsight, perhaps the reason I felt so close to the emo subculture was because it gave me the opportunity to find myself and develop my personality without necessarily having to do the same things my peers did. I felt like I had finally found my own dimension. As an "emo", I was able to define my own core values by deliberately going against the grain.

Back in 2009, MTV Italy aired a TV show called Emo vs. Truzzi, where the "truzzi" were the exact opposite of those who belonged to the emo subculture. A “truzzo” could be compared to the type of Italian American you might find on Jersey Shore: hair smothered in hair gel, sunglasses, and a penchant for partying in beach clubs, wearing fake pearl necklaces and the latest designer clothes. They, however, were at war with those who called themselves emo. But while I often say that I was an emo myself, that wasn’t entirely true from reviewing old recordings of the show. It’s just an easy way to say that I was really into rock music, and sporting black Converse and studded belts. But I was never truly part of the "emo crowd".

Instead, I had to find ways to fit into the subculture that weren’t especially visible for fear of upsetting my parents. They would never let me buy clothes that were blatantly alternative, so I had to make do with some DIY: drawing over my Converse with black sharpies; cutting holes into long-sleeved tops that I wore under band T-shirts; wearing cheap studded belts and bracelets; as well as cheap black nail polish at a time when black nail polish was not as popular as it is today. But in finding surreptitious “homemade” ways to tap into the emo subculture, I was still able to connect with the creativity, resolve and ostracism of the community nonetheless.

“But in finding surreptitious ‘homemade’ ways to tap into the emo subculture, I was still able to connect with the creativity, resolve and ostracism of the community nonetheless”

Fast forward to today, when many teenagers on TikTok are finding out about the joys of the emo subculture through “throwback” sounds by My Chemical Romance, Fall Out Boy and Panic! At The Disco, and/or dressing like scene queens. But is today’s emo really the same as its noughties predecessor? Teendom has changed under the influence of the internet and having all the latest news and trends at one’s fingertips; trends that change faster, and clothes that are significantly cheaper and therefore do not last as long. Buying alternative clothes today is easier than ever, thanks to the very same brands like SHEIN also peddling and profiting off every other micro-trend still in play. 

In its heyday, however, being emo was defined by not conforming to fit into a box. It was a time when people were required to think carefully about where they stood in society and the role they played within their specific subculture. And as a result, society knew exactly what type of person you were just by looking at your clothes. 

Back then, belonging to a group such as the emo subculture required carefully hunting for the right accessories in small independent out-of-the-way shops, while being into grunge music required scavenging for old flannel shirts from your dad’s dusty boxes in the garage. Similarly, being into hip-hop meant sourcing specific items of clothing from even more specific brands, such as baggy Evisu jeans and Carhartt jackets. Even the aforementioned truzzi used to wear specific brands, uniquely expressing their own sense of belonging to a subculture of clubbing.

Today, this sense of belonging through consumption is being exploited by big fashion houses and fast-fashion retailers alike for their own gain (and at the expense of the planet). But where high fashion has typically taken to collaborations to tap into varying communities, the fast fashion industry aims instead to appeal to as big an audience as possible at all times in order to maximise profits by giving consumers the opportunity to find anything they might need, from formalwear to more casual clothes and everything “alternative” in between.

“Today, this sense of belonging through consumption is being exploited by big fashion houses and fast-fashion retailers alike...”

Advances in manufacturing technology, globalisation and closed-loop warehouse operations have enabled big fashion corporations to capitalise on the very spontaneity of modern teenage rebellion and youth culture. With new micro-trends sprouting everyday via TikTok and other social media apps, H&M, Bershka, and many others are now able to get cheap items to market in significantly less time to appeal to teenagers looking for “alternative” clothes as and when.

Subcultures, therefore, have become very complex ecosystems almost too difficult to discuss. Some people say they’re dead, others say they are still alive and well in the form of TikTok trends, or that perhaps they’re simply less visible. I believe we will likely only understand the phenomenon in the next few years. But for now, what is true is that many contemporary ‘subcultures’ or ‘aesthetics’ seem to lack that element of not fitting in, of risking being made fun of. Instead, attempting any sort of ‘alternative’ lifestyle has ironically become the norm which is really cool in itself.

But if it isn’t ‘rebellious’ then can it really be called a youth subculture? I mean… what’s the point?

credits

words — alessandra arpaia

design — karina so.