Her dress, if you can call it a dress, has no stitches: just long strips of fabrics knotted together and cut in certain parts to make way for the arms and head. She layered it with a brown leather jacket, bought brand new at a mall outlet yet made to look like a jackpot find from a vintage shop. And to top it off, a bowler hat and a tin lunch box with "The Clash" printed on it.
Some would call the baggy attire unflattering but apparently, according to the wearer, this type of outfit is the new barometer of cool. And I must admit, I found it pretty cute and even though I might just grab one of these stitchless garments for myself. But knowing her, I changed my mind. Because I have noticed that everything she wears today, a million and one junior socialites and their minions will wear in the next three to four months.
The same applies to every piece of music she listens to, every place she hangs out at, and every slang word she uses. The pattern is as predictable as clockwork.
To call her a trendsetter wouldn't be right, because she doesn't create the trends - she follows them just like everybody else. She just happens to be ahead of the curve in the fad game. But lately I have noticed so many of her type around that it's starting to feel like a group worth remarking on: Those who are different just for the sake of being different, and will go to any lengths to stay different
Of course, people with unconventional lifestyles have been around forever. A decade ago, they were called eccentric. Artists, musicians, writers, what have you. Today they're called cutting edge. They're cool, they're indie, they're fringe. And who might the leaders of the fringe pack be?
Well, they're the people that can afford to adopt one trend, and then toss it the next day because everybody's doing it. Fur coat today, organic cotton tote bag tomorrow. Believe me, that don't come cheap. The vocalist from a veteran independent band once joked on stage: "My guitar player is dating a model. Can you believe that? Five years ago they would never even look at us, man. But now if your band is indie, you have a chance. We're their new trendy accessory."
Aside from the young women with their daily trips to the salon and young men with hard gym bodies, which of course are still alive and well, a large number of upper-middle-class young adults have lately jumped on the wagon to the sexier side. This is the fringe culture. Wearing clothes by independent local designers, sporting tattoos on their hips, never missing a gig by the hottest indie act and hanging paintings by some struggling urban artist on their bedroom wall, it's now impossible to tell them apart from art college students. So you might want to remember that before you snicker at a girl with a funny haircut. She could be your boss' daughter.
One of the institutions that have successfully taken the fringe culture to a higher level is a mid-sized establishment in South Jakarta. The owners of this business are genuine aficionados of art and culture, not limited to but including independent music and art. This establishment, which sells books and records, has become the place for indie divas with a range of unique fashion senses to meet up. I myself have been a frequent customer of this place for years. And it's rather amusing to see the subtle evolution of the place's patrons over the years.
I took the time to chat with an employee of the bookshop who has worked there for six years. "When we first opened, people came in their shorts and T-shirts. They browsed the shop, found what they needed, paid for it and left," he says. "Now it's a fashion show. It's a place to see and be seen. They hardly ever touch the books," he adds with a chuckle.
Not entirely true, since I know for a fact that some of them do buy the must-have books, which they never read and use as mere home decorations.
All this talk might give the impression that I have something against these folks. Now that's just silly. I give them a cordial cheek-to-cheek greeting whenever I run into them at, say, a concert of some European band that never makes it to TV because they're too niche. And I have every reason to love them.
They're the ones who buy my records and organize parties for my band to play at. They're the ones who buy my friends' artworks and fund their exhibitions. They make us matter. They're friends. At least, until they find you uncool and move on to the next cool.
-- KARTIKA JAHJA
