On Jasmine Howard's Granny, My Mother, and the Likely Lasses

Two girls in Newcastle (1970)

Photo by Laszlo Torday 

 

I. 

 

The other day, on a sunny afternoon, as Ray Davies would say, I attended a meeting of the Subcultures Interest Group (SIG), held in a fifth floor room at the London College of Fashion, located, for those who don't know, on the East Bank of the Queen Elizabeth Olympic Park, Stratford. 

 

After discussing the graphic design of Dave King - the one who designed the Crass symbol; not the one who designed the Anti-Nazi League logo - and the contents of an upcoming issue of SIG News, there were three short presentations, including one by a canny lass dressed in a vintage outfit called Jasmine Howard; a Fashion Cultures and Histories student, writing her MA dissertation on class and clothing in the North East of England in the mid-late 1960s [1].

 

 

II. 

 

More interested in the women who lived and worked and raised families in the small towns and villages rather than big cities such as Newcastle, Ms Howard argued that her grandmother was not only a long way geographically from Swinging London and its youth-driven cultural revolution, but essentially belonged to a different world from the one inhabited by Twiggy and Jean Shrimpton.

 

And, after looking at a photo of her grandmother on her wedding day in comparison to a London model wearing one of the lastest Mary Quant designs, one has to agree. 

 

But that's not to say that Jasmine's granny didn't look lovely; futuristic minimalism and space-age fashion is all well and good, but there's nothing wrong with looking neat and tidy in a more traditional sense and wearing garments that are a little more down to earth and designed to last. 

 

My own mother, who was from the North East, but moved south after marrying in 1948, never had much money to spend on clothes and wasn't very much interested in fashion. Nevertheless, she always made sure she looked respectable when she left the house; always with makeup and never with bare legs or bare head. 

 

Back then, people would refer to themselves as working class and proud, which, amongst other things, implied they took care of their appearance, but didn't necessarily feel the need to wear silver miniskirts and go-go boots.          

 

 

III.

 

Having said that, as the North East fashion historian Caroline Whitehead [2] reminds us, there were young women (and young men) in the North East during the sixties - certainly in the large cities, but also, I suspect, in the smallest towns and villages - who were bang on trend and keen to keep up with all the latest fashions from London, even if they couldn't afford to buy such and had to make their own outfits or buy cheap knock-off designs by mail order.

 

I can't imagine, for example, that if you were a student at the Newcastle College of Art and Industrial Design [3] in the 1960s, you were dressed either like Jasmine's granny or my mother and, if one can judge from the clothes worn by Thelma and all the other likely lasses [4], by the early-mid 1970s many women in the North East were now wearing colourful outfits, often with very short hemlines.    

 

  

Notes

 

[1] The two other presentations were made by Nael Ali and Eylem Boz; the former spoke on the symbol of the wolf within black metal; the latter, on the way in which social media and other forms of digital communication transformed emo in the early 21st century. My thoughts on these papers can be read here and here.    

 

[2] Whitehead organised an event celebrating local history month on 1 May, 2010, at Newcastle City Library, which examined the impact that the 1960s had on the North East. She gave an illustrated talk entitled 'The Sixties Revisited: Dedicated Followers of Fashion'. Tony Henderson's article on this event in the Chronicle can be found online by clicking here.

 

[3] Newcastle College of Art and Industrial Design was a key institution in the NE region in the 1960s. It eventually merged with other colleges to form Newcastle Polytechnic (now Northumbria University).

 

[4] I'm referring here to the female cast of Whatever Happened to the Likely Lads (BBC TV 1973-74), led by Brigit Forsyth as Thelma Ferris (née Chambers). See the post dated 2 December 2023: click here. 

Joining the Black Parade: Brief Reflections on Emo

 Portrait of the Scottish poet, philosopher, and founder 

of Emo, Thomas Brown (1778 - 1820)  [1]

 

 

I. 

 

The other day, on a sunny afternoon, as Ray Davies would say, I attended a meeting of the Subcultures Interest Group (SIG), held in a fifth floor room at the London College of Fashion, located, for those who don't know, on the East Bank of the Queen Elizabeth Olympic Park, Stratford.

 

After discussing the graphic design of Dave King - the one who designed the Crass symbol; not the one who designed the Anti-Nazi League logo - and the contents of an upcoming issue of SIG News, there were three short presentations by post-grad students, including one by a vivacious young woman called Eylem Boz, who was writing her MA dissertation on the way in which social media and other forms of digital communication have transformed emo - an alternative music genre - in the 21st century.

 

Now, I have to confess that my knowledge of emo is pretty limited, although I am aware of the fact that it has existed not only as a sound but as a fashion - and not only as a look, but as a lifestyle - since the early-mid 1990s, so I was keen to listen and learn a little more from someone who was clearly speaking with an insider's knowledge, experience, and passion, whilst still viewing things with a degree of academic objectivity [2].

 

 

II. 

 

If I'm not mistaken, Ms Boz was arguing that emo, as a subculture, radically developed (and mutated) as an online phenomenon - particularly in the early 2000s - in a way that earlier youth subcultures had not had the opportunity to do so. 

 

So, whilst some emo bands - such as My Chemical Romance [3] - found a level of mainstream success during this period, that's kind of irrelevant. What really matters and what really interests, is the way that emo was a fan-driven phenomenon; they made their own rules, relationships, and values, etc. [4]

 

And so, whilst emos may or may not be overly-sensitive and prone to mental health issues, they are also highly creative and tech-savvy and one can't help feeling a mixture of admiration and affection for them. 

 

What ultimately struck me during Eylem's presentation, however, was that emo is something of a paradox. For what she revealed is not that members of this community have a rich and complex inner life, but that their authenticity is a game of artifice and their model of selfhood is something created, stylised, and performed, rather than something to be known via philosophical reflection.

 

That's not to denigrate those who identify as emo, or mock them for their concern with clothes, haircuts, and makeup; I'd be the last person in the world who would wish to rain on their black parade, so to speak.

 

I'm simply suggesting that it would be a good idea for Ms Boz to acknowledge in her dissertation that that the emotions are things that demand expression, always pushing towards a surface [5], and that the ancient Greeks were wise to adore appearance, believe in forms, and courageously remain, as Nietzsche says, superficial out of profundity [6]. 

 

 

Notes

 

[1] This image features an engraving by William Walker based on a painting of Thomas Brown by George Watson (1806) and a ghostly-looking version of an Emo Girl by the graphic designer and illustrator Manuela Zamfir. Her original can be viewed (and downoaded for a fee) on vecteezy.com. 

      Brown, for those who don't know, has been described as the 'inventor of the emotions'. For more details, see Thomas Dixon's post dated 2 April 2020 on the History of Emotions Blog, operated by the Queen Mary Centre for the History of the Emotions: click here. 

 

[2] Eylem Boz certainly looked the part, though whether she would identify herself as an emo girl I don't know and, amusingly, her lively and outgoing character seemed to be somewhat at odds with the popular idea of the latter as someone a bit reserved and introverted (though perhaps this popular idea of an emo girl is a misconception and stereotype).    

 

[3] My Chemical Romance rejected the label after the UK press whipped up a moral panic surrounding the cult of emo and accused them (and other groups) of promoting social alienation, self-harm, and suicide amongst their young followers. To play their huge hit single, 'Welcome to the Black Parade', taken from the album The Black Parade (Reprise Records, 2006), click here.  

 

[4] As the character Dewey Finn would say: "That is so punk rock."

 

[5] The English word emotion was coined in the early 1800s by Thomas Brown - arguably the first emo - and derives from the French term émouvoir, which means to stir up (i.e. to move things towards the surface). It is arguable that whilst people before this date experienced certain passions and affections, no one felt emotions in the modern psychological sense.

      It is also arguable, that our emotions (like our ideas) are entirely constructed by external regimes of power, which is why I would like to close this post with the following (non-emo) track from the American punk band the Dead Kennedys; taken from the album Fresh Fruit for Rotting Vegetables (Cherry Red Records, 1980), 'Your Emotions' amusingly suggests that our emotions betray our monstrous nature and that our scars only begin to show when we confess how we're feeling or what we're thinking. To play, click here.  

 

[6] Nietzsche, The Gay Science, preface to the second edition (1886), section 4. 

 

 

For a related post to this one, in which I offer some Deleuzean reflections on the symbol of the wolf in black metal, click here.  

 

For a related post to this one on the politics of female fashion in the NE of England during the 1960s, click here.

Deleuzean Reflections on a Black Metal Wolf

Rune Wolf - a black metal logo by Monkeyrumen (2011) 

deviantart.com

 

"The wolf is not fundamentally a characteristic or a certain number of characteristics; it is a wolfing." 

- Deleuze & Guattari

 

 

I. 

 

Yesterday, on a sunny spring afternoon, I went along to another meeting of the Subcultures Interest Group, this time held in a fifth floor room at the London College of Fashion, located, for those who don't know, on the East Bank of the Queen Elizabeth Olympic Park, Stratford; directly opposite the London Stadium, which is where West Ham now play their football, having left Upton Park in 2016 (c'mon you Irons!). 

 

After discussing the graphic design of Dave King and the contents of the upcoming issue of SIG News, there were three short presentations by post-grad students, including one by Nael Ali, whose work on the figure of the goat within the genre of music known as war metal I briefly mentioned on Torpedo the Ark back in July 2024: click here.  

 

This time, however, there was nothing caprine about Ali's work. Instead, he spoke about the wolf as symbol within black metal; a topic which has special resonance for me as someone who has long been fascinated by the wolf within Norse mythology, folklore, and Nazi ideology [1]; as well as within the work of Deleuze and Guattari ...  

 

 

II.

 

As far as I'm aware, Gilles Deleuze and Félix Guattari were never fans of black metal, but they did like wolves. Thus, in Mille Plateau (1980), for example, they tie their theory of multiplicities to the wolf pack and, later, illustrate their section on becoming-animal with a pair of Etruscan images of a wolf-man.  

 

Wishing to distance themselves from psychoanalysis, they insist that Freud, being myopic and hard of hearing, knew nothing about wolves, but only about domestic pets and puppy-dog's tails (how fair and how accurate that is, I don't know). 

 

Although we often speak of the lone wolf, D&G insist that you can never be such a thing; that individuals even of the most solitary or independent kind are always still part of the pack; i.e., one wolf among others. 

 

They write:

 

"In becoming-wolf, the important thing is [...] the position of the subject itself in relation to the pack or wolf-multiplicity: how the subject joins or does not join the pack [...] how it does or does not hold to the multiplicity." [2]

 

The key thing is: don't reduce the many to the one; don't flatten wolf packs and machinic assemblages and molecular multiplicities. And understand that becoming-wolf has nothing to do with representing oneself as such, or believing oneself to be a wolf; wolves are "intensities, speeds, temperatures, nondecomposable variable distances" [3]. 

 

In other words, becoming-wolf is all about shooting a line of flight or deterritorialisation; not becoming hirsute, growing large carnivorous fangs, and howling at the moon like a lunatic. Sometimes, alas, I fear that our friends in the black metal community do not understand this; they seem readily seduced by medieval symbols, but to lack any knowledge of particles.        

 

Perhaps if you're the member of a black metal band then that doesn't matter too much. But if you're a doctoral research student, like Nael Ali, then you really should have an understanding of this and be able to refer to the reality of wolves within the libidinally material unconscious; they are not just imaginary or mythical in such a manner that allows us to extract from them structures of meaning or archetypal models, and lycanthropy is not simply a fantasy [4].  

 

I don't want to criticise the above too much - he is, I believe, just starting his research into the topic of black metal wolves - but it's important, sooner or later, that Ali recognise that becoming-wolf is not a game of correspondence between relations; "neither is it a resemblance, an imitation, or, at the limit, an identification" [5].

 

Finally, it's interesting to note in closing just how black metalheads often think like theologians; in their Satanism, for example, and when it comes to the question of the werewolf. For like theologians, they seem to regard the idea of human beings becoming animal as profoundly immoral on the grounds that essential forms are inalienable. 

 

Notes

 

[1] This fascination can be traced all the way back to Pagan Magazine issue XI: 'Ragnarok: Twilight of the Gods and the Coming of the Wolf' (1986). 

      Later, in 2007, I as part of the Bodil Joensen Memorial Lectures at Treadwell's, I gave a paper entitled 'In the Company of Wolves' which discussed lycanthropy and other forms of animal transformation with reference to the work of Angela Carter. 

     Finally, see also the post 'Operation Werewolf' published on TTA (6 Aug 2019), which dealt with the Nazi use of wolf mythology and symbolism: click here.

 

[2] Deleuze and Guattari, A Thousand Plateaus, trans. Brian Massumi (The Athlone Press, 1988), p. 29. 

 

[3] Ibid., p. 32.

 

[4] As Deleuze and Guattari write:

      "Becomings-animal are neither dreams nor phantasies. They are perfectly real.  But which reality is at issue here? For if becoming-animal does not consist in playing animal or imitating an animal, it is clear that a human does not 'really' become an animal [...] Becoming produces nothing other than itself. We fall into a false narrative if we say that you either imitate or you are. What is real is the becoming itself, the block of becoming, not the supposedly fixed terms through which that becoming passes."

      In other words: "The becoming-animal of the human being is real, even if the animal the human being becomes is not ..." See ATP, p. 238.  

 

[5] Ibid., p. 237. 

 

 

Surprise musical bonus; proto-black metal from 1933: click here. 

 

For a sister post to this one in which we follow the black parade and reflect on emo, click here. 

 

And for another SIG-inspired post, this time on the politics of female fashion in NE England during the 1960s, please click here. 

 

In Memory of Two Kings of Graphic Design

The Two Kings of Graphic Design: David King (1943 - 2016)

and David A. King (1948 - 2019) [1]

 

 

I. 

 

When I was informed that the next SIG meeting would be on the graphic designer Dave King, I assumed we were going to be speaking about the British artist who assembled a huge collection of old school Soviet imagery and propaganda; photographs, posters, and other materials commemorating and celebrating the Russian Revolution (1917) [2].

 

King, a self-confessed communist with Trotskyist leanings, was particularly keen to insert his hero back into the picture after Leon's name and image were comprehensively erased by Stalin from Soviet history and after Trotsky was physically eliminated by a Spanish-born NKVD agent who used an ice pick to make his ears burn [3], in an operation known as Operation Duck (August 1940).    

 

Despite his political leanings, King worked for many years at The Sunday Times Magazine as a designer and art editor and designed book covers for mainstream publishers, such as Penguin, alongside more radical presses.

 

But King is perhaps best remembered as the man who designed many famous album covers - including the controversial cover for Electric Ladyland (1968) by Jimi Hendrix, featuring a photo of 19 naked women by David Montgomery [4] - as well as his graphics in support of the political causes he supported, such as the Anti-Nazi League's red arrow logo on a yellow background (see figure 1 below). 

 

King died, aged, 73, in 2016.  

 

In 2020, Yale University Press published Rick Poynor's book David King: Designer, Activist, Visual Historian. Poynor, in collaboration with the editorial designer and art director Simon Esterson, also set up a website featuring designs by King from his private archives.

 

 

II.

 

My assumption, however, was mistaken: the Subcultures Interest Group is, rather, going to be discussing the work of David Anthony King; an English American artist and another key figure in the history of graphic design, famously creating the cross and serpent symbol by which the anarcho-hippie band Crass are recognised around the world. 

 

An Essex boy born and bred, King fell in with Penny Rimbaud and Gee Vaucher in 1964, when studying graphic design at a technical college in Dagenham. Later, in the 1970s, he would move into Dial House, the commune set up by the above in rural North Weald and it was here he came up with the iconic emblem (see figure 2 below).

 

In 1977, King moved to NYC and became part of the punk scene there, both as a designer and a musician. Later, he relocated to San Francisco and, in 1990, enrolled at San Francisco Art Institute, where he studied drawing, painting, photography, printmaking, and poetry, producing a substantial body of work in numerous mediums over the next four decades.

 

King's graphics are now a regular feature of exhibitions showcasing punk visual art in galleries worldwide and several collections of his work have been published, including, most recently, David King Publications 1977 - 2019 (Colpa Press, 2024), which comes with an interesting introduction by Matt Borruso as well as plenty of images to enjoy [5].

 

King died, aged 71, in 2019. 

 

He is fondly remembered, however, by those who have long championed scrapbooks, photocopied fanzines, print-on-demand books, mail art, etc. For if anything was at the heart of the punk ethos it was surely the notion of DIY and not caring about anything other than putting one's ideas and images into the world (often at great personal cost and with no thought of financial reward or commercial success).   

 

Fig. 1: David King Anti-Nazi League logo (1977)

Fig. 2: David A. King Crass symbol (1977)

    

Notes

 

[1] The photo of David King is by Anthony Oliver for Eye magazine, issue 48, (2003). The photo of David A. King is by Sean Clark (2016).

 

[2] King assembled more than 250,000 items in a collection which has formed the basis for a series of exhibitions and a special gallery in the Tate Modern. 

      Stephen F. Cohen, a professor of Russian studies, described King's work as 'a one-man archaeological expedition into the lost world, the destroyed world, of the original Soviet leadership. He was determined to unearth everything that Stalin had buried so deeply and so bloodily.'

 

[3] Technically, Trotsky was killed with an ice axe and not an ice pick, but I'm referring here to the lyric of the song 'No More Heroes' by the English rock band the Stranglers. The track was released as a single from an album of the same title in September 1977 (United Artists) and reached number 8 in the UK Singles Chart. Click here to play.

 

[4] King attempted to justify his design for the Hendrix album, Electric Ladyland (1968), by arguing it contrasted with the unrealistic and often airbrushed images of nude women found in magazines such as Playboy. Montgomery's photo, however, was deemed too risqué for the US edition of the album and was replaced by a picture of Hendrix. 

[5] This book was published in conjunction with an exhibition of King's work held at the San Francisco Center for the Book, from 25 October until 22 December, 2024. Matt Borruso explains in his introduction: 

      "The exhibition and book collect a chronological sampling of the publishing work that King made over his lifetime, in addition to flyers, photographs, and graphic design projects. But neither the show nor the book are in any way complete. We are still digging through King's archive, consistently finding new things that he made, and piecing together a better picture of his life and work." 

      Click here for more details and to purchase a copy.