Emospotting

Been doing some amateur anthropology of late.

Emospotting it's called.

From the lofty perspective of my advanced years it is interesting to indulge in a little bit of cult spotting. Lately I have become fixated on this whole Emo thing. Precisely what is an Emo? It seems to be a weird magpie kind of thing. A bit of Punk trouserage, with a touch of the Goth hair thing, the odd stray post modernist ironic t-shirt, and the unique facial puncturing of the bewildered little man from the Amazon traumatized by Sting all those years ago.

Usually moving in packs, and oddly, in my part of the world, to be spotted milling about outside superhypermultinationalcoffeebooks.

Short of publishing an Emo Identification guide, there isn't much more to be said. The interesting thing is the body language, sort of confident Goth.

When spotted, wilting beneath our summer sun the Goth can be relied upon to walk from the knees down. There is a definite clenching of the knees with your Goth, quite why I am not sure. When accompanied by the head tilt of Gothdom, it creates a distinctive shape, one more instantly recognizable than perhaps anything this side of the Sydney Opera House.

Your Emo on the otherhand strides confidently ahead, head held high, jewelry a glint in the sun.

Look, if Emo-osity fries your burgers, then cool, but turning as I am into a Grumpy Old Man, I must confess I fail to see the allure. Loud but ultimately safe and whiney music, dubious recycling of old fashion, dunno what the allure is, but more power to ya.