honda 1979

I drove around the suburbs with a Misfits sticker on my 1979 Honda CVCC, one that referenced their song “Bullet” about the JFK assassination. The sticker depicted an image of Kennedy getting shot in Dallas, blood pouring from his head– a totally offensive and disrespectful image that I nonetheless hoped would let people know that I considered myself a rebel. These things seemed very important. How else could we identify another weirdo or outlier? These symbols intimated a belief system, a way of thinking not just about music but about school and friends and politics and society. It was also a way to separate yourself, to feel bold or try on boldness without yet possessing it. A little inkling of the nonconformist person you could be–you wanted to be–but weren’t quite ready to commit to. I papered my walls with band posters and what little I could find in mainstream magazines about alternative and punk, maybe a picture of Babes in Toyland from Spin or Fugazi from Option. The iconoclast images and iconography covered my room, a jarring contrast to the pretty blue-and-white-striped wallpaper I’d insisted on in elementary school. I resented the parts of myself that were late to adopt coolness, late to learn–I wanted to have always possessed a savviness and sophistication, even though I clearly had neither.
—  Hunger Makes Me A Modern Girl, Carrie Brownstein