Once again we are subjected to lazy journalism on the Mod
scene from an outsider without a clue. This time, the Dailey Telegraph’s Guy
Stagg (whom we are told “blogs about the fringe arts scene & the
relationship between culture and politics”) asks, “Isn't Bradley Wiggins a bit
old to be a Mod?”
His first pearl of wisdom is, “Which are you: Mod or Rocker?
If you have an answer to that question, then you are probably past it.” He
continues, “Subcultures are a teenage phenomenon, but as a result they grow old
very quickly. Mods and Rockers used to terrorise Sixties seaside resorts, but now
they are harmless piece of nostalgia, as antique as Teddy Boys or hippies.”
Here we go with the Mods & Rockers seaside clashes again
– if he had done any research then he would have realised that there had been
at least 3 waves of Mod prior to 1964 and that the seaside disturbances were
encouraged by the media and carried out by the hangers-on who had joined the
Mod bandwagon only after the media had focused on it and sent it overground via
shows such as ‘Ready Steady Go’ etc.
He asserts that, “thanks to Bradley Wiggins, Mods are
enjoying a comeback. The “Modfather”, as he is apparently known, owns several
Lambretta and Vespa scooters, and has collaborated with Fred Perry on a range
of cycle tops that pay homage to Mods' neat, effete tailoring. Without doing
down his extraordinary success in the Tour de France, if every young trendy
starts sporting three-inch sideburns, we will only have Wiggins to blame.”
Never personally heard Bradley called ‘The Modfather’ – I
thought the media types had that reserved exclusively for Mr. Weller! And the
Mod scene never went away – being underground normally frees us from this kind
of journalistic drivel, but we can’t blame Bradley Wiggins for that.
Guy believes that, “Subcultures are ways for teenagers to
work out their identity. Adolescents adopt a style to make up for the gaping
holes in their personal experience. Subcultures give you a tribe, with a bunch
of hobbies, friends and opinions thrown in. As embarrassingly pretentious as
the result might be – I was briefly a New Romantic, three decades late – they
are a necessary part of growing up.”
Subcultures of a stylistic nature often do start in our
teenage years, but there’s no reason they cannot continue throughout life (and
much evidence that they actually do), as much recent academic work in this area
is focusing on (including my own Doctoral research for the University of
Derby).
He tells us, “Subcultures begin as something edgy, inspiring
bands and fashion labels, but then become mainstream and lose their appeal. When
I was growing up the trends were grunge and boho; now the cool kids are
hipsters. But as soon as Topshop started selling skinny, pastel jeans, the look
was out of date.”
Guy does have a valid point here, although for many of us
the appeal isn’t lost and the scene continues to develop (just hear how the
musical trends of the Mod scene have changed to a more R&B vein due to the
influence of The Hideaway Club and the discovery/release of rare and unreleased
tracks). I think it is well documented how the fashions of the original Mod
scene progressed from week to week so even youth subcultures in their ‘first
flush’ are not static scenes.
Stagg continues, “Before long those teenage devotees have
grown up and the subculture becomes a tragic trip down memory lane. Dressing
like a teenager into your thirties just looks like a Peter Pan complex. Mods
still exist, but they are now balding divorcees who ride around complaining
about mortgage payments and pension plans.
Unfortunately Bradley Wiggins is one of them. Of course he’s
got the scooters and sideburns, but he's also got a job and children. Mods are
unlikely to pedal anywhere, and especially not across 2,000 miles of rural
France. Given all the time Wiggins spent training in the Lancashire hills, and
cycling up mountains for fun, he probably has few opportunities to hustle round
Brighton in a parka, chewing on amphetamines and picking fights with people in
leather.
Wiggins, like all the other modern-day Mods, is actually a
collector. The look is just a vintage whimsy, like Elvis Presley records or Art
Deco wallpaper. The sad fact is that all subcultures, no matter how daring, end
up being museum pieces in the garages of middle-aged men.”
How can it be a tragic trip down memory lane when we haven’t
gone away in the first place? And with Mod styles, unlike many other
subcultures, being a classic look (no Guy, we don’t all run round in Parkas
looking for a fight), how can wearing a bespoke suit in your thirties (and
forties) look like a Peter Pan complex? And just for the record, I have a full
head of hair, am happily married and am quite comfortable with my mortgage and
pension arrangements (as is my Mod wife) – getting older and gaining
responsibilities does not destroy my brain cells to the point of not wanting to
still wear nice clothes and listen to good music (unlike Stagg, who admits to
having being a late ‘New Romantic’ – his photos in dodgy clothes with bad hair
styles won’t stand the test of time when he looks back on them, but my Mod
photos from the late seventies to the present day most certainly do).
So modern day Mods are just collectors and museum pieces
according to Guy Stagg in his patronizing and condescending manner (tell that
to The Strypes who are all circa 15 years old and have just released a superb
authentic sounding R&B 7” EP on Heavy Soul Records) – he has completely
missed the point and clearly doesn’t realize that this is not a hobby but a way
of life. He throws in some sexism too by totally discounting all of the females
on the Mod scene and contends that we chaps continue our Mod leanings in our
garages – not really an obvious place to wear your bespoke threads or listen to
some cool music.
And as for poor old Bradley Wiggins, who has won more
Olympic medals than any other Briton, surely he can be into whatever he likes
without this sort of media nonsense.
I had to smile at one of the readers' comments to Guy Stagg’s blog
that, on seeing the picture of him, said, “Your barber must really hate you”.
That says it all.
