I am enjoying the glimpsed lives of the late teens (early 20s?) recently. Tonight on the bus there was a large gaggle of indy kids all heading to some event together, I think it was this, actually. Shakespeare by the youth, now that's enough to make you grin for starters.
Being a bit of a starer and evesdropper, I then was watching a gorgeous triangle dynamic unfold between a young bloke with a ponytail and hat covered in esoteric badges and safety pins, a chick with short ginger hair and an op-shop fashion aesthetic; and a preppy kind of girl with a pink top and white cardie and faux pearls. It was a discussion of films, where redhair is lucidly describing two recent films (neither of which I recognised and didn't catch the titles - one may have been called Subliminal.) White cardie says "oh is that an arty film?" but her comment is missed by the other two at that moment. She pauses, to see if she's been heard, her face forming into an expression of someone who is smelling dog poo on their own shoe.
The boy and girl carry on to another recent film, so she repeats herself "Are they arty films or something?". Red hair notices this time, looks up, thinks for a second, and says "No, not really, they're in regular cinemas." and continues on. White cardie has to wait another two stops or so for a new conversation opening, and still with sneer intact says "Oh I don't watch many movies." What? I'm thinking you're about 16 what else is there to do? "I think they're a waste of time actually". The unspoken response from the other two may well have been "Ok, whatever" .. at this point ponytail boy had become quite interested in what redhair had to say and wasn't really engaging with the other girl. He carries on with asking about favourite films, to which she has a ready and passionate reply that starts with "At the moment.."
Cardie then pipes in with a comment about French film being depressing. Ponytail is reminded of the Three Colours trilogy and starts telling redhair about them. "There's these films that have a theme of depression but they're really beautiful, you might like, they're called Red, White and Blue, . . . or maybe Blue, White and Red". "Three colours, yeh, like the french flag". While they're trying to recall which order the tricolour goes in, cardie adds in "Isn't that green, pink, and er .. white"? I look out the window so as not to laugh. No malice to preppy girl, but she just really misjudged the group's social norm this time. A fleeting moment triumph for the indy misfits - that magic one when suddenly its ok to like what is a bit different, or something you found out about for yourself.