The early nineties– I was walking to the magazine shop where I bought my NME when I saw “revolution girl style now” grafittied on the five-story parking lot. In the shop, near Ray Gun, two older girls were singing “Goo likes to wear green underwear” to each other. I was intrigued.
So I learned to write in all lower case.
The leader of my Riot Grrrl chapter was called Sugar (hippie parent named, her sister was Spice.)
There was one black babydoll dress I could wear most places: with band t-shirts and ripped tights and converse. (yikes.) Or with Mary Janes and little glasses to brown nose with recently elected women congress ladies. Democrats seemed exciting. (Till the Clintons flubbed healthcare.)
Indie rock (did we call it that then? What did you call indie before “indie rock”?) taught me discrimination quick; 95% of the records we bought by mail order were crap.
Then I got into TLC.