Like the nappies in Chez ‘Abulous, the times they are a changin’. Despite numerous tweets and Facebook status updates, I’m barely able to keep tabs on what “the times” they are a doin’. I fear that I may be stuck in some kind of 1980s time warp actually doing “The Time Warp” and wondering when Gangnam became a style. There are certain things that those Generation Y whipper snappers get up to that do my middle aged head in. For instance;
Back in my day Sonny Jim, we covered our butts when leaving the beach. Slipping into a sarong or a pair of shorts was mandatory for a post beach stroll up the street. Since when did it become acceptable to nip into McDonalds in your bikini? I recently spotted two teenage girls in the Scottish restaurant chomping happily away happily on their Big Macs, their firm flesh barely concealed by their bathers. I’ve even seen Gen Yers in the local Woolworths clad only in swimsuits. Trust me – its difficult to focus on your shopping list when there is a nearly naked young hunk in your aisle.
I remember when checked shirts and ugg boots were the mark of the bogan or the “westie” as we Shire folk would call them. Today it seems these items are the wardrobe staples for hipsters. How did that happen? It makes me wonder what’s next. Will cashed up young professionals soon be flocking to “Victoria Bitter” themed bars where the beer soaked carpet squelshes under foot? Will scantily clad, peroxided cigarette girls be doling out “Winnie Blues” at such cutting edge establishments?
This hipinisation* of all things bogan leads me to another puzzling trend – tattoos going mainstream. Back in ye olden days (the 1980s) tattoos were reserved for the hardcore – sailors, rockers and criminals. They were truly the mark of the anti establishment. In these post modern times you cant go to the beach or pool without being confronted by wall to wall body art – like some gigantic seaside mural. Even grandmothers are getting them and I am told that small subtle ones like the tiny butterflies adorning you ankle are becoming passe. It seems to me that unadorned skin is the “new” radical.
Given this trend I predict that the panel van is about to make a resurgence. They’ve been notably absent for a couple of decades and I kind of miss them. Particularly the ones resplendent with airbrushed murals of sword weilding medieval warriors and impossibly proportioned wenches. Nothing screamed male potency louder. You can bet that behind those curtained back windows lies a palace of pleasure replete with shag pile carpeting and a “fully sick” sound system. I am at a loss to explain the dearth of shaggin’ wagons on our roadways. Perhaps modern parenting has rendered them unnecessary. Do adolescents now have sex in the family home as Mums and Dads take the attitude if they are going to “do it” anyway, I’d rather they do it under our roof than in a seedy carpark?
I don’t mean to sound like a prude with way too much time on her hands (even though this is probably an apt description). There are much greater threats to the fabric of society than the lack of fabric covering young people’s backsides. I’m not going to lose any sleep over checked shirt wearing hipsters who drink VB and smoke Winnie Blue ironically but dont drive panel vans. I just feel that I’m wedged in a paradigm that is now a couple of decades old and that is truly disturbing. Its a slippery slope from here. If I keep going at this rate I predict I will have morphed into my parents by around March 2013.
Do you also have trouble with the times a changin’?
*hipinisation – I made up this word just now. When it makes it into the Oxford dictionary remember that you saw it here at Mumabulous first.