Braces and Faces
Hi, and welcome to a new feature of the Modclothin website. I’ll be contributing regularly via a blog on all aspects of Mod culture exclusively for Modclothin. I’ll be touching base with those involved in our scene, from attendees of Mod clubs, scooter enthusiasts, DJ's, record collectors, clothes designers, but most importantly, the everyday Mod. And I’ll obviously pay homage to the rich heritage and history of Mod in future blogs. I’ll be talking too and interviewing those that keep the home fires burning.
So, to get the ball rolling I thought I’d use this first outing to introduce myself. My name is Aston (actually my surname and nothing to do with football) and I’m from The Black Country, Wolverhampton to be exact. And my story really starts in September 1979. The new school term had just started and I had just moved up to Comprehensive school, I was a 1st year pupil which is now year 7. Our main school building was being extended so we were annexed to a nearby school. So it was exclusively 1st year pupils and no bigger kids to negotiate or get beat up by. But on Monday and Friday afternoons, we went up to the main school to familiarise ourselves with our proper new school. My first time there I noticed the cliques straight away. Gangs if you like, who hung out together during break times. The only friendly ones I encountered were mainly older brothers of kids I already knew, although I wasn’t aware at the time, they were the Mod ‘gang’. They all spoke to me and had a laugh with me, rather than at me. They were proper big kids, adults in mind. On my 2nd visit to the main school, they were once again really friendly.
Back to the annex.
3rd week of school I’d sussed out the cool kids or as I thought. One kid in particular stood out to me. Very popular and well known, and everyone called him Trendy. Trendy at that time meant someone who was up to date with fashion, music and haircuts, on trend I guess. No kids of our age would have dreamed of being called a Trendy. So I made it my business to befriend this kid known as Trendy. My plan came to fruition nicely after I asked to join a game of football, this kid Trendy was already known as a decent player, you know the type: knew everyone, good at sports, liked by the teachers. After our game of football I was leaning, with a very cool stance, on a tree trunk smoking a cigarette, when Trendy joins me. We chat, pure smalltalk. Then following a lull we had this conversation. Trendy “I’m gonna be a Mod” me “Mod? What’s a Mod” Trendy, after a moment thinking about it “Dunno really, but my brother said he’s one” me “But what does a Mod do then?” Trendy replied “I think they like nice jumpers and that”. That was the very first time I’d heard the word Mod. At this point a teacher approached us, I very quickly stubbed out my cigarette and the teacher says “David Trend!!! You’ll never be a professional footballer if you hang out with smokers!!”, so it turns out that Trendy wasn’t a description but his surname! I felt such a fool, my assumptions were well and truly shattered. But I knew I liked nice jumpers, so therefore I was a Mod. I also ended up in detention for smoking!
Back to the main school.
I relayed the above story to my new found friends on Friday afternoon. They found it hilarious. After the laughing subsided they gave me their take on what a Mod was. It’s obvious that at this point in time, I was highly impressionable. They imparted their knowledge to me which was gold to my ears. They told me about the clothes, the music, the hair, the girls. The thing that stuck with me was they spoke about the attitude. Conducting yourself in a certain way, the way you hold yourself when walking even being mindful of facial expressions. It just went straight into my internal hardwiring.
The music was another important thing, out of all the things they told me about, the music was easy for me to access. The right clothes were out of my league as I was 11 almost 12 years old a scooter was out of the question, obviously. But the music was easy, my elder brother was a regular Wigan Casino supplicant, my elder sister was heavily into Reggae and Ska and my Mom loved Motown. So, at weekends while my siblings were out I had access to their records. This is something I was already doing by the way. So being a Mod seemed to fit. The Mod ‘gang’ took me under their wing and I’d swap the odd ‘borrowed’ record for a cast off item of clothing.
The Specials, Secret Affair were currently in the charts of September ’79. Chocolate for my mind, I was straight up Woolworths for a shoplifting mission and was successful in lifting a copy of Gangsters.
I was the first Mod in my school year back at the annex which catapulted me up the cool kid rankings. Within 4 weeks I was hanging out with the ‘cock’ of our year. The Mod revival was in full swing and even our teachers would tell us about their involvement in the original scene. I was like a sponge and found it fascinating that these bearded, elbow leather patched boring teachers were once as cool as I thought I was.
So, the whole ethic, the core values of Mod are still with me till this very day. I still collect record, I also DJ, I’m known for being suited and booted. My wife is also into Mod culture so are 95% of our friends. I regularly attend club events, weekenders and the best part? I often DJ these events too and play a very tiny part in the continuity of our heritage.
So, there’s my back story of how it began for me. For the next issue I’ll be talking to the couple that run and organise Black Katz Mod Club which is held every three months in Walsall, West Mids. Lee Rochester and Vicki Richardson long time protagonists and patrons of our vibrant culture.
I’d like to thank Pete Whelbourne of Modclothin for the opportunity to share mine and others views and opinions on what we love, where we’re from and what we all do to keep things moving forward into the future. If after reading this you feel that you’d like to take part in future editions of this blog, then please feel free to contact me via Facebook just search for Bri Aston.
See you all soon.
Aston.