"Look, I don't wanna be the same as everybody else. That's why I'm a Mod, see? I mean, you gotta be somebody, ain't ya, or you might as well jump in the sea and drown."
My fascination with mods is unhealthy. The smartness and expense spent on appearance vs the grey working class backdrop has a romanticism to it. But as with any subculture, it intrigues and baffles me all at the same time. It's a strife for individuality yet you end up being the same as everyone else who wants to be different. A gang of people who don't want to be part of the gang! Irony. I love you.
Still, this doesn't phase my obsession. It's a coping mechanism. A way to escape the surroundings you're apart of which is still an issue and probably why the scene still exists today. I could go on forever about how much I love the mod scene; the scooters, the suits, the constant revivals. But instead I made a series of photographs, suprisingly enough, named "Dandy".
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