bels

I think I hold great admiration for an artist who arose during that period of time, in that area of the UK, in that sect of rock music, who contributed to and wrote what he did while adorned in frocks that spoke of pure, unfiltered, authenticity. It seems like it wasn’t always about looking the most polished or wearing the most flattering pieces. This beautiful swirl of late 1960s androgyny seen in the psychedelic British rockstars of the time, the ironic slutty baby of it all kinderwhore style of Courtney Love and Kat Bjelland. The transparent sheerness and dark leather of the immortal punk scene of Great Britain, innocence not bastardized to the nth degree of the sailor-esque Japanese schoolgirl uniform, and the overall camp of a tiara, slogan tee, or a scarf around the head.

Having read and listened to Nicky's own words on wearing his mum's clothes and using her makeup as a boy because he wanted to. Or his concentrated lyrics on gender and the expression of femininity within the sociopolitical echo-chamber that was the latter half of the 20th century. There is no aesthetic, there is no product being sold, there is no greater message expect for his own thoughts and expression. It's not the young, attractive, male celebrities of today posing on red carpets in crisp and impeccably tailored pleated skirts with a suit jacket as a means to "fuck with the system". This, in my opinion, is gender expression in its most true and pure form. There is no fundamental "why?". Simply a doing and I fucking adore it.