I will never forget hearing Hole’s Pretty on the Inside for the first time. I was 14. It was 1992. I was given a copy on tape (which I still have) backed with Mudhoney. Teenage Whore would be the first song sung by Courtney Love that I heard - opening a doorway into music I still love to this day.
And reminding me why women are difficult.
BECAUSE WE’VE HAD TO BE.
It’s an understatement to say I loved it.
I WAS HOOKED.
I was a shy girl. Shy on the outside, but with some kind of rage on the inside. I had a pretty comfortable upbringing, bar a parental divorce, so the rage was probably more to do with its fight for air than anything else. Shyness always won. And that made me angry with myself.
But in that battle, in finding Courtney Love and Hole. In discovering Babes in Toyland, I found other ways to express myself that meant I didn’t have to say a word…
Babydoll dresses. White fishnet tights. Mary Janes. Red lipstick. Sun In hair spray…
The hours spent scouring second hand shops and finding knackered old dresses with tatty lace and baby blue ribbon were bliss. And when I put those clothes on, I felt like I could say everything without saying a word.
And when you’re surrounded by perfection - in women’s magazines, and on Baywatch and Beverly Hills 90210, there was something about Kat Bjelland’s scream and Courtney’s hair and smudged lipstick that made me feel more comfortable about my dodgy teenage teeth and acne.
I might have been a shy kid. But I was definitely onto something. And it stayed with me…
I realised pretty early on that I couldn’t begin to live up to sweet perfection. And, as cliche as it sounds, I never felt like I fitted in. I still don’t in many situations (freelance life suits me down to the ground).
At infant school I was the only girl who didn’t make it into the choir (no, it wasn’t a posh school - did they all have try outs for choir at that age?? Awful). And at birthday parties I was always left sitting with the boys in McDonalds, wondering where the promised appearance of Ronald was…while the girls disappeared off elsewhere…
My dad got me obsessed by volcanoes and earthquakes and art. And I loved racing the boys down the streets on my bike or my feet and pretending to be John McEnroe whenever I picked up a tennis racket. Knight Rider was my favourite programme and Spider Woman was my favourite annual. I collected slugs.
So imagine seeing this vision of woman, where perfection didn’t seem to apply. Where fitting in wasn’t important. Where you could look perfectly at home in lipstick, and a once-cute dress playing with mud.
All of a sudden, I felt like I did belong. It might not have been in real life. I was still a desperately shy teen. But I belonged because I found others who didn’t fit and who didn’t apologise for it.
People today find it hard to believe I was once so shy. And being outspoken or loudly complaining about stuff I felt was unfair has got me into trouble in the workplace a few ties. But it feels right. Being able to voice things that some people might not.
Even those who were never left alone with the lads at the kids birthday parties…Sometimes, they’re the ones conforming and staying quiet…
Finding Babes in Toyland, Hole, L7, Breeders, Throwing Muses, Daisy Chainsaw, Sonic Youth, Pixies - where women led or more than held their own - was undoubtedly the best thing that could have ever happened to this once painfully quiet kid.
Conforming’s boring. Being difficult is a necessity.
Thank you to all those fierce women for pointing that out and paving the way…
Xx
My novel, THE TWENTY SEVEN CLUB, and its sequel, PARKLIFE celebrate the 90s, while exploring music myths, mental health stereotypes and recovery. They’re full of dark humour too. I’d be DELIGHTED if you fancied giving them a read.