So, I was taking a break from my work day just now and checking email. I subscribe to one of those “What’s going on around town” newsletters and today’s had a link to a photo exhibit. So I looked at the photos and then looked up some of the featured artists’ work and this led to a general search on amazon.co.uk. All the photography was erotic in nature and I happened upon an ad for the latest Suicide Girls book. If you aren’t familiar with Suicide Girls it’s a website and now series of books of tattooed and pierced women, generally in the 18-25 year old demographic. It was started by a woman either, depending on your viewpoint, as a celebration of the tattooed/pierced subculture or as a clever way to cash in on said subculture. Looking at the pics made me think, ‘Standing out is impossible’.

Maybe it’s just me. And I don’t mean to sound cynical or jaded or blasé here, but to me nothing is shocking anymore. I remember when I finally got my hands on a copy of Madonna’s photo book Sex I flipped through it and thought “This is really boring. I’ve seen all this stuff before and this is disappointing considering Madonna’s flair for the sensational.” At this point given all the art and “art” I’ve been exposed to it takes an awful lot for me to be stunned or impressed. I do have somewhat peculiar tastes to begin with, leaning toward modernism and within that category, being a big fan of minimalism. But with people it’s the same thing – no one really stands out.

At least not in their identity. There really is no way to differentiate yourself because we all feel the need to put ourselves into various boxes.

There’s the box for how you dress – preppy, goth, emo (which is really just sad and compassionate goth), punk, don’t care.

There’s the box for your religion/philosophy – christian, jewish, hindu, buddhist, sikh, scientologist, atheist, agnostic, nihilist (as in “We are nihilists Lebowski, we believe in nothing!”)

Let’s not forget the box for your career – salesman, doctor, lawyer, teacher, ditch-digger, stand-up comedian, etc.

Then there’s the box for your hobbies which puts you into more subcultures – extreme sports enthusiast, stamp collector, cyclist, bowler, fly fisherman.

Political box comes next – right-wing, left-wing, moderate, conservative, republican, democrat, libertarian, anarchist

And on And on. More boxes. Climb on in.

Ultimately, or right off the bat, you realize as you look at all your boxes, that there are millions of other people in the box with you.

Um, wait, didn’t you put yourself in the box to stand out?

Why did you even bother?

There are obviously reasons for boxing yourself (er, you know what I mean). On the one hand, we have a natural tendency to want to belong, so we eventually align ourselves with one or more groups in order to fill that oh so human need. Sometimes we do it because of who we are intrinsically – e.g., we are lovers of the outdoors from birth so we take up hiking and then decide to always wear hiking clothes, thus getting into two boxes for the price of one (no pun intended). Sometimes we don’t realize we’re in the box until someone else points it out “Wait, is that unusual? I thought everyone liked midget porn…” But most of the time it starts as a pre-teen or teen and it’s all about being distinct.

I used to think I was distinct because in high school I wore Doc Martens (still do in fact). Years later I noticed that gamers, geeks, goths, punks and preppies were wearing them too. But there is no distinct, there is no different unless you meet one or more of the following criteria:

A) You design your own clothes or just go naked because obscenity laws be damned
B) You’ve actually created your own unique political system
C) You think god is one of the salt shakers at your local diner
D) You actually prefer sex with animals over people (in which case you are different but you are also creepy
E) You have some wonderful set of eccentricities that makes you stand out in a crowd

And E) is really the point I suppose because underneath all of our chosen associations the only things that make us really unique are the little foibles that can’t be put into boxes. Only the strange folds in the fabric of our personalities, the contours we only reveal to a select few people. That’s all we get to be different. Everything else is just posing.