The Glory Years of British Rock...
It’s only as I’ve gotten older I’ve realised what a revolutionary country I live in. British rock, just like British fashion, is truly one of a kind. Three words to define: genuine, raw and innovative. Just like rock, British fashion has a tendency to play on the edge, and always bring something different to the Wedgwood plate. Just like Black Sabbath brought us dark sludgy guitar metal, so did Gareth Pugh in the form of a collection of perfect and artistic clothing. The Rolling Stones gave us sex ridden dirty rock 'n' roll and Galliano gave us a very British-looking Sherlock Holmes with a liking for corsetry and silk underwear.
Who doesn’t feel inspired when they see live footage of Jimi Hendrix? Although he was from the states, he was a massive part of the British rock scene, and gathered more popularity in the UK because of his effortless mismatch dress sense and over the top (and drugged up) stage performances. If only I could play left handed guitar with my teeth, smoke a fag and wear a dirty paisley scarf around my head while performing Purple Haze to a legion of screaming fans. I guess Jimi could be likened to McQueen, in that the performance was as important (if not more) as the wearing of the clothes or the spinning of the record. It was about the final product coming down the catwalk, or out of the wall of Marshall amps.
Britain really does rock.
My Generation: The Glory Years of British Rock 30 April – 24 October 2010 at the V&A
Posted by Leanne Jay Boulton