It’s a Mod Mod World

Not long after this, I got heavily into The Jam, and found that Paul Weller was also interested in the music and fashions that embodied Mod culture. The music The Jam made, much like the movie Quadrophenia, embodied what it meant to be young for me. There was an idea that I could change anything. Weller became the ace face for me and a new generation of kids discovering the British youth phenomenon of the ’60s. I checked out books about pop art from the library. I started listening to more soul artists and the new wave of ska coming over from England. I also got really into The Kinks. But I didn’t hang out with anyone who listened to the same music, or cared about meeting Mods.

And then one day I went to see General Public, and as I was waiting for my parents to pick me up, it happened. A group of boys rode over on their scooters, wearing fish tail parkas, and bang! The next thing I knew, I was part of an ’80s Mod revivalist culture. I wore my own modern take on Mod, choosing not to stick to a strict vintage code. . . and I hung out in espresso bars and record stores and went to see films like Blow Up and Dance Craze. I danced all night with boys in vintage suits and pork pie hats, and went for rides on Vespas. It was all really fun and exciting for a girl who felt trapped by the suburbs. I made friends with a girl who loved Emma Peel as I did, and she dressed like she was straight out of Quadrophenia. (I couldn’t get into the new breed of Mod bands, though I tried.)

Like Jimmy in the film, I felt like I finally had something that was mine, like I was a part of something special. Happenings at my high school held no interest. I spent my time in the city at shows and parties. But just like the film, and the nature of the original Mod culture, things soon changed.

I became disillusioned with many of the people around me. I guess I thought that if they listened to The Jam and Quadrophenia, that the lyrics had to resonate with them as deeply as they did me. I assumed if they were part of the same scene, that they understood me, or were like me. It wasn’t the case. And some of the people did some pretty crappy things. Eventually, it was like I was part of a group of people not very different from those in my high school, except for mode of dress. I embraced the other musical genres that interested me, and always had, and I went my own way. And ’round about that time the scene dried up as if it had never existed.

For the most part, I look back fondly on the time. I’ll still read a book about Mods when I find one. I still wish, as I have since age 13, that I owned a vintage Vespa. And I love the original music and looking at the fashions. I’m still friends with the “Emma Peel” girl, although she moved to Los Angeles and has long stopped being interested in anything Mod.

We all go through phases as teens, and friends come and go, no matter what music one listens to, or what clothes they wear. But I still watch and listen to Quadrophenia repeatedly, and the poster is framed in my home. I guess “I’m One,” after all.

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