Well, I was there. Really. And it was VERY concerned with aesthetics, but the question is 'why'. Mostly it was bloody-minded defiance, but in practise there were so many possible answers that I stopped arguing about them almost immediately. I found punk to be like diving into an ocean, it changed everything, and wondering which bit of water is wetter is pointless.If you're concerned about aesthetics is it really even punk?
I liked 'hardcore' but trying to define it was also pointless, it felt more like trying to navigate an energy field, just going wherever it felt stronger. And eventually, being just as eager to get out of it. I liked having a green mohican. Why that form, and that colour, was arbitrary, it just seemed like a good idea at the time. Until a tussle with a policeman in a revolving door at the Holiday Inn made it wise to allow a girl to experiment on me with henna till it was jet black and spiky with orange bits. I'd already had trouble with policemen over mis-identity and green hair, before that event, so I wasn't going to tempt fate.
EDIT: Re bass colour, I posted earlier about that, so I won't repeat it here.
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