In the Times’ Sunday style section, Sam Knight details London’s rave revival. Reading this brought back painful memories of phat pants, body sparkles, candy necklaces, and platform sneakers (okay maybe we still wear the latter). Although this current scene isn’t an exact replica of the past, it shares a love of all things florescent. Knight writes:
Still, there were glow sticks—a kind of waving coral reef of neon pinks, yellow and greens—and between acts, young men in leather jackets nudged their way around the dance floor, offering Ecstasy. Teenage fans wore reflective jackets, neon paint, sunglasses, beads and whistles as they hurled themselves back and forth, up and down, suggesting that if this wasn’t rave, then it was certainly a somehow-related cousin.
But don’t start looking for your phatties yet. It seems drainpipes are here to stay—just add a bright accouterment.
At a New Young Pony Club gig, Oisin Butler, a psychology student who said he was starting a band called Aids Baby, sat wearing a purple bow tie, a red cardigan and glasses with Day-Glo frames and no lenses. His jeans were so tight there was no room for his keys. “You can wear anything, as long as it’s odd, or glittery, or neon, or is really disgusting,” he said.
“Odd, glittery, neon, and really disgusting” sounds like a recipe for fashion disaster. Plus, people should really only have to witness adults with pacifiers once in their lives. We hope this trend stays across the pond, but it might be too late.
This article from the Village Voice Archive was posted on January 22, 2007