From The Who, all else followed.  I researched their predecessors and learned to love The Rolling Stones and The Beatles in a way I hadn't previously done (probably because my mother liked them, and we all know that anything our parents liked was sooo not cool).  There came a second revelation in the form of David Bowie, whose surreal androgyny, theatrical tendencies, and equally un-lovey songs attracted me for obvious reasons.  And then came the outpouring of music; Elton John, Eric Clapton, Janis Joplin, Jimi Hendrix, The Doors, the Byrds, the Greatful Dead, Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers, REM, The Talking Heads, Bob Dylan, Phil Collins, Sting…pretty much anyone who had played at either Woodstock or Monterey Pop and/or was British ( I had accepted my tendency towards Brit worship long before all of this started when I suddenly realized at the age of 11 that everything that appealed to me had been created by a person of the UK persuasion).  I was officially an Anglophiliac hippy (I know, hippies aren't angry people, but that just goes to show you about the duality of human nature)

This is where a defining piece of my personality and the biggest misconception about me converge.  Almost everyone I have ever known has accused me of (or at least thought it true of me) enjoying anything underground, weird, counter-culture, or generally against the mainstream for the pure fact that it is obscure.  Now, explain to me, if you will, how exactly a band like The Who is considered obscure?  Or David Bowie?  Or The Beatles, even?  I grant you, these are unusual pursuits for a person of my gender, age, and national origin.  But they are in no way obscure, and I will fight anyone to the death who continues to think that they are.

So this is the predicament I find myself in; I have never fit in with my contemporaries because I am too alternative for the mainstreamers, and too conventional for the media snobs.  I don't listen to pop Billboard 1 hits, but I also don't listen to local bands with only one or two CD's under their belts.  I listen to classic rock.  I don't read New York Time's best sellers just because everyone else has, but I also don't read esoteric Turkish novels from the 1650's just because no one else has.  I read Oscar Wilde.  I like movies like Dodgeball and Very Annie Mary because they entertain me, but I did not enjoy Dude, Where's My Car? or Blue Velvet because I found both to be boring and pointless.  I will watch shows like Lost and Life on Mars because they interest me, but I don't watch 24 or Star Trek because nothing about them ever caught my attention.  I don't just pick and choose what I like for the sake of impressing someone with my knowledge or because I want to fit in.  I just like what I like. 

Surprisingly, this seems to be a foreign concept to a lot of people, or at least it was when I was growing up.  I remember a girl in high school once telling me that she "admired how brave" I was in dressing the way I did (if you never saw how I dressed in high school, count yourself lucky.  Imagine a 60's flower child, a 70's punk, an 80's goth, and a 90's club kid having an orgy on the streets of London and you'll have a rough idea of what my daily costumes resembled).  It had never occurred to me before that moment that other people (specifically girls) dressed for anyone other than themselves.  All I knew was that I liked bright colors, glitter, Doc Martins, graphic t-shirts, and blue jeans.  If I saw something in a store that appealed to me, I bought it.  It didn't matter what that store was, or what the label on the inside of the garment said, or what the price was.  The Salvation Army was as good as The Gap, in my opinion (technically, I didn't frequent either one of those places, but you get the point).  I wasn't a non-conformist for the sake of being a non-conformist, either.  There was nothing political in my choice to wear blue lipstick to school.  I just happened to like the color blue against my skin tone.  This matter was once brought to a head by a substitute teacher who insisted I identify what my style of dress was called.  When I told her I didn't know what she meant, that I simply wore what I liked, she said "No!  It has a name!  That look is called something!"  Bewildered, I made up the term "gypsy chic" on the spot, and have used it to describe my "style" ever since.

Just so, I get the same kind of guff for liking British things strictly because they are British.  If this was true, you would think I'd be listening to Amy Winehouse or Lily Allen, or even Mika right now.  And while I don't mind any of those people, I don't particularly care for them either.  If you must know, I'm listening to Billy Joel right now, and rather enjoying him, as it happens.  Ah, I hear you say, but we've already established that you like classic rock.  So you probably like anything that is British and old.  To that, I would counter with the fact that I really do not care for Led Zepplin in the least little bit.  Ah, you start again, but any die-hard Who fan would say that.  Well, that may be true…

However, these kinds of argument fall apart when I point out that although I love actors like Jude Law and Ewan McGregor, I cannot stand either Colin Farrell or Hugh Grant.  I adore Christian Bale, but I can do without Orlando Bloom.  Alan Rickman is a God to me, but I honestly cannot think of a time when I have ever paid to see an Anthony Hopkins movie in the theater.  Not that I particularly hate Sir Tony, understand, but I feel the same way about him that I do about Robert DeNiro; wonderful actor, but his presence alone is not going to cause me to see a movie.  I don't like things just because they are British, but I absolutely do have a British sensibility.  Why is this so?  I have no idea.

Case in point; in the summer of 2004 I heard a song called "Take Your Mama" randomly played on VH1 one day.  I thought to myself This is a catchy song.  I like it.  I wonder who the group is.  I soon discovered that it was a band by the name of Scissor Sisters, a retro-techno-piano-rock-glam band who came out of New York City.  "You see!" I shouted from the roof tops after buying their debut album, "I love this band, and they're American!  Not a single Limey in the pack!"  Sadly, this wonderful group never did really catch on here on their home turf, but guess where they did find an audience…that's right.  England.  They are HUGE there.  Did I know this at the time I began listening to them?  Absolutely not.  I caught on to them at the same time that the Brits did.  There is no other explanation for this, in my opinion, other than that I simply have a British aesthetic.