When I was assigned a “dress up field experiment,” I became excited with the innumerable possibilities I had to refashion myself for the sake of research. Although I would consider my personal style “casual chic,” I believed that with my confidence and vigor I would be able to face this challenge without hesitation. I decided to explore “the Guido”: a recent youth subculture made popular by Italian-Americans and media programs such as MTV’s Jersey Shore. My East Village neighborhood is known for its hipster population. My apartment is situated between two consignment shops and an eco-friendly bakery; exhibiting the influence the main subculture has over the community merchants. With the area swarming with hipsters, punks and Goths, would a Guido attract attention through the masses? I was curious to how the public would respond to such a rare sighting in an area defined by St. Marks Street culture.
Through personal experience, media portrayals and stereotypes, I had a strong idea of how I would dress the part. In Paul Hodkinson’s published work Goth: Identity, Style and Subculture, he explains the four criteria needed for a subculture to be considered such. “The first indicator of subcultural substance comprises the existence of a set of shared tastes and values which is distinctive from those of other groups and reasonably consistent, from one participant to the next, one place to the next and one year to the next,” (Hodkinson 30). This means that specific traits or characteristics must be particular of the Guido culture, enabling them to be identifiable by these features. Bronze, tanned skin is a defining trait, along with diligently styled hair and sculpted bodies, (Viscusi). None of these characteristics are necessary, but can be fundamental when defining the Guido scene. It is this relative consistency that Hodkinson explains, allows some variation between members but not explicit diversity. While many may believe that you must be Italian-American or must wear Ed Hardy to be Guido, we have seen examples of such individuals who do not follow such norms but are still considered Guido by staying within other subcultural guidelines.
I began piecing my outfit together with garments I already owned. I started with an American Apparel pleather strapless dress that I normally use for layering. I wore the garment solo to mirror an outfit Nicole “Snooki” Polizzi would wear to a club in Seaside Heights. To dress weather appropriate, I wore a Juicy Couture zipper cardigan complete with the “Juicy Forever” insignia on the back. In my defense, the Juicy Jumpsuit was very popular when I was in high school on Long Island, so it is not that surprising that I should own such a cardigan. I figured I would wear flashy stilettos while dressed up, but I felt my attire was too “clubby.” This is when I spotted my black, calf-high Uggs in the corner of my apartment and realized they would be the perfect footwear for this outfit. I wanted to show that I was glamorous, yet I wasn’t trying too hard.
I polished the look with gaudy necklaces, bangles, and hopelessly looked for a pair of hoop earrings. To my dismay I was in no such luck, but I found a black, bedazzled cocktail ring to wear instead. I moved into my bathroom to apply the makeup and took one final look at my white sink counter-top before I put my Guido face on. I began with my normal powder concealer around my eyes to emphasize the unnatural tone of the bronzer that I applied next. A Bare Minerals singular toned, powder bronzer named “warmth” was what I chose to cover my face. It was like I had taken rust and rubbed it all over my face, but in a bit more elegant manor. I took a black eye pencil to my lids and colored them to create the illusion that I was wearing heavy eye makeup. I applied some lighter eye shadow near to brow bone and corners of my eyes to achieve the same effect. I finished my face with a considerate amount of mascara and nude lip-gloss. My originally white counter now looked like I had thrown dirt all over it.
I saved the hair poof for last, knowing it would be challenging for my brittle, blonde locks. I took a segment from the front of my hair and tried twisting it back towards my head, while teasing it with a fine-toothed comb. Surprisingly with a little hairspray and four bobby-pins, I was able to get my poof to stay in place. After forty-five minutes of primping, my look was complete, but I couldn’t help but laugh by the reflection in the mirror. Originally I was confident I would be able to pull this off, but I felt embarrassed and nervous about how people were going to react to me. I called up one of my friends and made her join me in this adventure.
After dressing her up in one of my best baby-pink jumpsuits and applying her Guido face, we were ready to hit the streets. It turns out that bringing my friend along probably made my actions more convincing. “Subcultures are liable to account for a considerable amount of free time, friendship patterns, shopping routes, collections of commodities, going-out habits and even internet use,” (Hodkinson 31). This commitment Hodkinson is explaining is another criteria of a subculture. If I were really a young “Guidette,” the lifestyle would be a defining role in my life. It would be whom I hung out with, what I wore, where I shopped and how I acted. Commitment is necessary to prove how intent a person is on becoming a member of the subculture. If someone has “fleeting, partial forms of affiliation,” (31) as Hodkinson mentions, it is not clear to the group whether the person will be a member for more than a week or a year. Most subcultures have been around for several years, even decades, so it is these lifelong members that are needed to keep the subculture alive. With noncommittal members, the group identity fades.
The first disapproving glances we received were from the other tenants in my building. As we walked down 11th Street, I felt eyes glaring at me from every angle. I tried to continue talking to my friend about her spring break, but the strangers’ gazes were debilitating. We turned on Third Avenue to get Starbucks, and passed several restaurants with outdoor seating. One table of five paused their lunch to point and snicker at the two of us walking by. We pretended like we didn’t notice, but it was hard not to hear their laughter.
While in Starbucks, my barista asked if I was from Staten Island. I told him no, and began telling him where I was from. He actually stopped me mid-sentence, turned his head away while giggling and said “Wait, wait. I can’t take you seriously right now. Take your sunglasses off and then we’ll talk!” Shocked by his comment, I did not quite know how to respond. My friend and I grabbed our coffee and shuffled out of there.
We continued our adventure down St. Marks Street so we could encounter the other popular subcultures of the area. As each punk or Goth individual’s gaze fell upon me, I became more accustomed with the attention. At this point it had seemed that almost every single person we had passed had made some sort of comment, so we were becoming habituated with the ridicule. People would make a point to turn around and stare at us, but we just kept walking along. On St. Marks we found a “jewelry” store called Hotties. Still on my quest to find perfect hoop earrings, we entered the shop to explore. The only people inside were the Asian storeowners, so we were able to discuss how we felt about what was occurring outside. While browsing through the Lucite jewelry, she told me she had never felt so self-conscious. She was laughing, “I hope I’m not that judgmental!” As I got ready to pay for white Lucite hoop earrings (finally!), the woman at the cash register began speaking with us. “You ladies look so glamorous! Us Asians can’t get that tan!” Whether this was her sales tactic or she was just a friendly person, this gave us the boost we needed to keep on with our day.
Our last stop was Strand Bookstore, a haven for hipsters and NYU students alike. Our plan was to just go into the store and see if anybody would react to us. With our earlier incidents we figured something was bound to happen. As we walked in, the first floor was flooded with people. We stood out like sore thumbs, so it was easy for us to make a clear pathway to the back of the store. At my destination, the classical book section, I found a sales man and asked where the Nietzsche was. He burst out with uncontrollable laughter and walked away. The two of us then began laughing at his unexpected response. We left the store feeling silly, confused, and ready to go home.
What was it about the Guido image that got everyone so riled up? Besides the outrageous hair and unnatural skin tone, I believe that it was the context of my Guido that had everyone shocked. In Alison Lurie’s work The Language of Clothes, she explains Irving Goffman’s concept of proper dress. “To wear the costume considered ‘proper’ for a situation acts as a sign of involvement in it, and the person whose clothes do not conform to theses standards is likely to be more or less subtly excluded from participation,” (Lurie 13). While my friend and I were trying to participate in one subculture, we were ostracizing ourselves from the other subculture around us. As Hodkinson had mentioned, commitment is key when claiming participation in a subculture. The people giving us nasty looks on the street were not only judging us by our physical appearance, but by our ability to function in their East Village culture. Guido’s are not common around here, so our appearance was strange and foreign to the people around us.
As Lurie explains in the beginning of her book, “to choose clothes… is to define and describe ourselves,” (Lurie 5). I may have just been wearing a dress, cardigan and boots, but to the onlooker I was defining myself as a Guido. With the so-called “popularity” of the television show Jersey Shore, I was anticipating a more accepting response from the public than I received. This season has had up to 8.9 million viewers each episode! (Gorman). These statistics coupled with the laughter and heckling I received on the streets, I conclude that this subculture is popular in the media for a different reason. Are the Guidos our modern day minstrels?
Gorman, Bill. "‘Jersey Shore’ Cannot Be Stopped, Sets Series High 8.9 Million Viewers." TV Ratings, TV Nielsen Ratings, Television Show Ratings | TVbytheNumbers.com. 21 Jan. 2011. Web. 20 Mar. 2011. <http://tvbythenumbers.zap2it.com/2011/01/21/jersey-shore-sets-another-record-with-8-9-million-viewers/79756>.
Hodkinson, Paul. Goth: Identity, Style, and Subculture. Oxford: Berg, 2002. 28-33. Print.
Lurie, Alison. The Language of Clothes. New York: Henry Holt, 2000. 4-36. Print.
Viscusi, Robert. "The Situation - Society and the Guido: An Italian-American Youth Style." I-ITALY. IADP, 25 Jan. 2010. Web. 18 Mar. 2011. <http://www.i-italy.org/12693/situation>.
