dnt_DSC_7775-2: Fish And Chips, Reggae, Dr Martens And Cognitive Dissonance
“Hey look, Santa brought me my umpteenth pair of red Dr Martens for Christmas.”
And we are off.
“I’ve been wearing this brand for years,” he says.
We have come together to talk about why the footwear means so much and he is forthright.
“These shoes are symbolic of my story, how I came to be the man that I am.”
How could a commercial brand achieve all of that, I inquire?
“I started wearing these shoes when my cousin gave me a pair of Cherry Red docs, dyed black. They were too big but the love was instant. I liked the shape. They held my feet comfortably and securely. They were good for a boot in football and decent in a fight too, if necessary.
“They were probably the first brand I owned too. My parents weren’t poor but they weren’t rich either. I see kids these days in the latest Nike or Adidas trainers and I'm amazed. My parents always hid behind the excuse that I was growing and there was no point in buying me new and expensive shoes every four months.”
He smiles before his tone darkens.
“As a 12-year old, Dr Martens were just shoes. A year later, they were the footwear of the people who didn’t want me and my family to stay in the country.”
The United kingdom was a dark and different place in the late 1970s. The National Front was a political force, its poison affecting and infecting every aspect of British culture (www.youtube.com/watch?v=SxL-FoE6mzw).
Mrs Thatcher, as leader of the Conservative Party, had incorporated some of the NF rhetoric into her own public speeches (www.youtube.com/watch?v=JR9X6FkkOeY). Immigrants were discussed only in terms of their drain on the nation’s resources, their ‘innate’ criminality (www.youtube.com/watch?v=MCda7RDY9JM) and the circumstances and conditions of their departure from Great Britain.
“Things change and things remain the same,” he says with a wink.
“I watched the NF marches on tv and some of the white lads were wearing my boots. For a while, I did change my own social uniform to show solidarity with my community but I still wore my Docs to school.
“Then, fortunately, Ska and TwoTone music (www.youtube.com/watch?v=ueMDcBp5tQU)exploded into the public consciousness (www.youtube.com/watch?v=Av__SIM59-Y) and my docs were now part of a new youth culture that embraced multi-racial Britain as it was and not the nostalgia theme park that some wanted it to be.
“By the age of 15, I was wearing Doc loafers with tassels (www.youtube.com/watch?v=9SWBfM7KOUM), my white socks and drainpipe trousers.”
By the time he got to university, the boots had been traded in for black Doc shoes, a pillar of metrosexual London chic.
Delving deeper, I understand that the wearing of docs was also a ‘political choice.’ In the 1980s, British black culture had fallen for the ‘Nike Supremacy’ of Air Jordans et al. His choice of Docs was an act of rejection and realignment.
“Yes, I think the shoes did represent the non-conformity of my identity,” he confirms.
He then laughs nervously. “Dr Martens are the visible sign of my cognitive dissonance. Who would have thought that shoes could mean this much.”
He adds: “Immigrants are always hearing that they are a burden, that they are unwanted. How could people who worked every day, owned a house and were decent, be a problem for Great Britain?
“Irish people were not a problem, even though there was a terrible war in Northern Ireland for 25 years. But black people were constantly talked down. Even Eric Clapton, ‘Mr Bluesman’ himself wanted us out (www.youtube.com/watch?v=UYccj2PmraQ)!
“But where was I to go? The Caribbean was just food, family and who you supported during the cricket season (www.youtube.com/watch?v=5XD5W_z4k-U) but England was my home.
“I was totally conflicted. Looking back, I think that by my 20s, I was sick of being in Britain but not of it. I wanted to feel part of the country and at ease. I needed to belong somewhere.
“So … maybe … I created a place in my mind where I was comfortable and where my identity as a black Briton was accepted.
“To put it simply … I like reggae and fish and chips. I am black and I am British too. I am not special and I shouldn’t be a target because I am black. I am always forced to think about my identity because everyone ..and I mean everyone - black and white - is obsessed by it.
“I am nothing more than a mixture of two heritages that have been intertwined for five centuries. Slavery and colonialism were terrible but my parents chose to migrate to the United Kingdom and I am shaped by that choice. The way i have turned out - in equal parts black and British leaves me with no choice but to be British and black. Both are compatible. My identity makes perfect sense and it shouldn’t be the subject of constant inquiry, debate or criticism.
“You can’t hate what you are without paying a terrible price.
“So .. yeah … when I step out wearing my red Dr Martens, I’m the me that I want to be!
dnt_DSC_7775-2: Fish And Chips, Reggae, Dr Martens And Cognitive Dissonance
“Hey look, Santa brought me my umpteenth pair of red Dr Martens for Christmas.”
And we are off.
“I’ve been wearing this brand for years,” he says.
We have come together to talk about why the footwear means so much and he is forthright.
“These shoes are symbolic of my story, how I came to be the man that I am.”
How could a commercial brand achieve all of that, I inquire?
“I started wearing these shoes when my cousin gave me a pair of Cherry Red docs, dyed black. They were too big but the love was instant. I liked the shape. They held my feet comfortably and securely. They were good for a boot in football and decent in a fight too, if necessary.
“They were probably the first brand I owned too. My parents weren’t poor but they weren’t rich either. I see kids these days in the latest Nike or Adidas trainers and I'm amazed. My parents always hid behind the excuse that I was growing and there was no point in buying me new and expensive shoes every four months.”
He smiles before his tone darkens.
“As a 12-year old, Dr Martens were just shoes. A year later, they were the footwear of the people who didn’t want me and my family to stay in the country.”
The United kingdom was a dark and different place in the late 1970s. The National Front was a political force, its poison affecting and infecting every aspect of British culture (www.youtube.com/watch?v=SxL-FoE6mzw).
Mrs Thatcher, as leader of the Conservative Party, had incorporated some of the NF rhetoric into her own public speeches (www.youtube.com/watch?v=JR9X6FkkOeY). Immigrants were discussed only in terms of their drain on the nation’s resources, their ‘innate’ criminality (www.youtube.com/watch?v=MCda7RDY9JM) and the circumstances and conditions of their departure from Great Britain.
“Things change and things remain the same,” he says with a wink.
“I watched the NF marches on tv and some of the white lads were wearing my boots. For a while, I did change my own social uniform to show solidarity with my community but I still wore my Docs to school.
“Then, fortunately, Ska and TwoTone music (www.youtube.com/watch?v=ueMDcBp5tQU)exploded into the public consciousness (www.youtube.com/watch?v=Av__SIM59-Y) and my docs were now part of a new youth culture that embraced multi-racial Britain as it was and not the nostalgia theme park that some wanted it to be.
“By the age of 15, I was wearing Doc loafers with tassels (www.youtube.com/watch?v=9SWBfM7KOUM), my white socks and drainpipe trousers.”
By the time he got to university, the boots had been traded in for black Doc shoes, a pillar of metrosexual London chic.
Delving deeper, I understand that the wearing of docs was also a ‘political choice.’ In the 1980s, British black culture had fallen for the ‘Nike Supremacy’ of Air Jordans et al. His choice of Docs was an act of rejection and realignment.
“Yes, I think the shoes did represent the non-conformity of my identity,” he confirms.
He then laughs nervously. “Dr Martens are the visible sign of my cognitive dissonance. Who would have thought that shoes could mean this much.”
He adds: “Immigrants are always hearing that they are a burden, that they are unwanted. How could people who worked every day, owned a house and were decent, be a problem for Great Britain?
“Irish people were not a problem, even though there was a terrible war in Northern Ireland for 25 years. But black people were constantly talked down. Even Eric Clapton, ‘Mr Bluesman’ himself wanted us out (www.youtube.com/watch?v=UYccj2PmraQ)!
“But where was I to go? The Caribbean was just food, family and who you supported during the cricket season (www.youtube.com/watch?v=5XD5W_z4k-U) but England was my home.
“I was totally conflicted. Looking back, I think that by my 20s, I was sick of being in Britain but not of it. I wanted to feel part of the country and at ease. I needed to belong somewhere.
“So … maybe … I created a place in my mind where I was comfortable and where my identity as a black Briton was accepted.
“To put it simply … I like reggae and fish and chips. I am black and I am British too. I am not special and I shouldn’t be a target because I am black. I am always forced to think about my identity because everyone ..and I mean everyone - black and white - is obsessed by it.
“I am nothing more than a mixture of two heritages that have been intertwined for five centuries. Slavery and colonialism were terrible but my parents chose to migrate to the United Kingdom and I am shaped by that choice. The way i have turned out - in equal parts black and British leaves me with no choice but to be British and black. Both are compatible. My identity makes perfect sense and it shouldn’t be the subject of constant inquiry, debate or criticism.
“You can’t hate what you are without paying a terrible price.
“So .. yeah … when I step out wearing my red Dr Martens, I’m the me that I want to be!