DAD, or: SINCE WHEN DID MY *DAD* BECOME COOL?
EVERY SATURDAY MORNING he’s the first one cruising the charity shops, pockets bulging with change for vintage threads, paperback trash, 1950’s soda bottles, and rare goods to sell on e-Bay to fund his next outing.
THE OTHER DAY I received an entire vintage black-and-yellow tea service so gloriously garish that it lives on my mantelpiece rather than being used. I’m now working on him for his original Eighties aviator glasses. A question nags at me though, and it’s this: When did my Dad become Cool? The answer? When Cool became my Dad.
FORGET HARRY ENFIELD'S 'EMBARRASSING DAD': Daddy Cool sussed out that Staying In Is The New Going Out (which was the New Staying In, which was the New Going Out) while we were swigging cans of White Lightning in the park in miniskirts and puffa jackets.
BUT OUR DADS WERE THERE doing it the first
time round. When the Beatles were the biggest influence on the 'Greatest
Band On the Planet' (oh, yeah, Oasis, ri-ight), our dads were looking
at their vinyl collection and smiling like men who’ve spent the
last decade listening to Kylie, Jason and Big Fun. Their swinging youth
is our fashion plundering playground.
THAT'S THE SECRET TO DADDY'S COOL. He doesn’t
even know he’s cool. He’s doing his own thing and having a
ball doing it. As the vacant epicentre of fashion looks once more for
something real to sucker onto, leech-like, it fixes its beady eye on him.
And when fashion moves on, and we’re all dancing to Mum-pop or wearing
tin-foil romper suits, Daddy Cool will still be doing his thing and keeping
it real for all us fickle little fashion babies.