Billie Joe Armstrong - Fashion Victim
Guest contributor Hector has a look at this "classic" (by definition at least) BJA song.
He's a victim of his own time In his "vintage suit" and tieBillie (of the gender-bending name-spelling) isn't a huge fan of the fashion biz. He objects to how classic looks are recycled in the name of being the latest "look" or craze. We can't be sure but it seems that Armstrong pities those guys - and we all know one or two - who dress and have the personalities of shop window mannequins in all the latest "gear."
he's a casuality dressed to the teeth In the latest genocide the new seasons come and go at the dog and pony show gonna sit and beg and fetch the names and follow the dress codes
It seems that BJA is worried about the effects of war too. I can only imagine it was the 1999 Kosovo conflict which so enraged and disgusted him. Although, terrible though the overthrow of Slobodam Milosevich was, I frankly don't get how it was in any way reflective of "bar codes" which are a series of printed codes which allow cashiers in any given high street retailer to provide the correct price to any discerning customer, regardless of the item they are currently planning to purchase. Perhaps Billie's rage comes from the fact that he has been overcharged for a particularly striking red tie or some eyeliner and is therefore really mad and feels that his denial of eye-liner at a fair price is in some way akin to the massacre of Kosovan Muslims by Serbian nationalists in 1999. We can but ask...
What's in a name...hey!
As if to confirm my earlier hypothesis, Billie continues to question the necessity of names. Personally I'm fairly sure he means both fashion names and ethnic identities, be it Albanian or Gucci, BJA just does't see the point. Is this some sort of acerbic wit aimed at the entire premise of capitalism? We shall see....
She's a scented magazine looking sharp and living clean living well and dressed to kill but she looks like hell to me
Moving into the second part of the song, Billie takes us far away from the already tenuously linked subjects of fashionistas and the 1999 US-UK invasion of Kosovo. He is concerned that some unknown "she", whilst living "clean" (presumably this means she owns a hoover and a mop0 and "well" (from a nice middle class family in the suburbs presumably) is dressed to "kill" (a reference to the famous series of James Bond films, maybe? After all, there's a lot of women therein who are frankly dressed to kill if the man observing happens to simultaneously have an overactive libido and heart condition).
Yet our man Billie isn't taken in, he compares her to a magazine. I mean, I've worked in a newsagent for four years and although the sticky stink of print on my fingers is pretty darn sexy at times, it's not the sort of compliment I'd like to pay to a lady friend...
So when you're dancing through you wardrobe do the anorex - a go - go cloaked with style for pedophiles as the credit card explodes
As Billie continues, one must fear for his ability to construct a logical argument. Anorexia, recession and paedophilia all feature in his summation. Is this the logical conclusion of the parts that have preceded it (Kosovo and fasion)? No. To be frank. For a start, I tried dancing through my wardrobe earlier and I didn't end up clinically starving (or in Narnia for that matter), I ended up with sodding concussion because the bar was too low and I cracked my head on it and it hurt really quite a lot so thanks for the advice Billie. Certainly never taking any tips from you on appropriate spaces to "bop" in future...
Moving on though, Billie is rather worried that such closet dancing behaviour causes anorexia. I'll be honest, when I have a headache, food and chocolate in general is what calls to me. Whether there's a recession or not, I disagree that my wardrobe dancing damages the macroeconomics of the nation in any major way or increases the risk of paedophilia for the nations tots.
you auctioned off your life for the "most" expensive price going once... going twice... now it's gone (youth crew) you auctioned off your life for the "most" expensive price going once... going twice... now it's gone
It seems as BJA brings this lyrical masterpiece to a conclusion that my fears for his broken down personality were entirely justified. His comments on the fashion industry, sexuality and teenage health were entirely fatuous since it seems that all his intensive clothes-buying, anorexia and paedophilia has cost him his mind. He no longer knows what a name really is and presumes that some sort of auction process applies in the allocation of "names" (personally, my parents named me. I don't remember them having to bid. Cos if they did they were absolute cheapskates, a couple of extra quid could've got me an "Allonso" or "Lysander" as opposed to stupid ruddy Hector).
what's in a name...hey! what's in a name...hey! what's in a name?
Billie leaves us with the profound feeling that he is still not at all convinced by the entire system of nomenclature. God, he's proper post-structuralist, ain't he?
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