Fleabag performs for the audience in her head with a shining authenticity that female viewers lovingly envy. Meanwhile, the rants of non-conformers like Jade West have taught a 2000s generation to speak a little louder. Semiotically, a girl’s childhood DVD collection mirrors her eclectic online presence. We reflect and sometimes refract in the twinkling fragments of pop culture.
When my grandmother, Christine Pearson, and I were talking about film and cinema in the late 50s, I asked, “Did you ever see yourself in the characters?”.
Our conversations became a discourse on morals, friendships, and identities defined by diverse media personalities and social problems. Instead, my grandmother described a stark contrast between the American films that were premiering at the time and the pre-war, post-church films, on a Sunday.
The transition into the early 60s, the impact of Elvis, and the influential idea of the American Dream. On this, Christine says, "Elvis... gosh, my dad turned the telly off when he came on".
All of this seeped through the seams of the clothing that 60s teens wore. This conversation sparked nostalgia for an era I’ll never know; an era marked by the eruption of social spirit and teen identity. Solidifed by her lasting vivacity. Physical evidence of this remains, a hand-me-down pair of German, wool bermudas, once hanging in her wardrobe, now tucked neatly into my drawer.
My teenage grandmother experienced only a handful of premiering films each year, unlike today, making me question how often and deeply we self-identify with fictional characters.
Do we know how to separate our personalities from the mirror of modern media?
Whether it’s a Carrie Bradshaw-inspired shoe collection or seeing The Lorax attempting to prevent global warming and capitalism at age 9, the mass media has undeniably shaped me. Films like Wild Child, Pitch Perfect, and St Trinian’s expanded the intersection of sass, studying and sisterhood.
Observant by nature, Christine noted, “When you were growing up [in the early 2000s], it became very child-centric; with games, activities, TV shows… parents were an economic gap in the market, and children’s entertainment was the commodity.”
The female heroines from Christine’s childhood, included Jo March, Hollywood stars like Sandra Dee or Doris Day, and the writers at Women’s Own. She jokes that “Mum would buy [the magazine] and I would sneak a look at the problems page — she wasn’t going to tell me!”
Highlighting the differences between then and now, Christine continues: “Definitely, we went to the cinema to be influenced. We had our cultural educations there - sexual educations too. They did make us use our imaginations though…”
“Girls were influenced by the romantic aspects because no one told them anything! I felt worse for the boys, they didn’t talk to each other and one day, someone would tell them they were a man. Of course, they had no idea what that meant... but our educations developed over time.”
“There were double standards with deceptive discourse on certain issues. There were some films (realistically, stark warnings), like A Taste of Honey, discussing teenage pregnancy. They were made to be contextual; the actresses were relatable and working class, like us. Some popular literature and film, in setting, were bleak… incredibly bleak. Perhaps portraying poor towns, the Yorkshire moors… Yorkshire didn’t half get
the slack!”
the slack!”
Christine’s educator mindset has persisted, from being the only woman studying sculpture at Rochdale College of Art, to nurturing creativity in schools for 38 years. This shines through her motto that the youth are the key to knowledge — the key to the future.
At 80, she ventures out into her idyllic town of St Ives, denim-blue hair combed, and artistic eye at the ready. Her Thursdays are spent teaching other people’s grandparents at the University of the Third Age. Followed by a phone call to discuss coursework.
There’s a refuge of knowledge residing in everybody: lessons in the literature and truth in the interpretation. Call me biased, but sometimes our best teachers are the generations before us. Ready to share their wisdom with a curious granddaughter. Having, perhaps, harnessed the thought at her same age.
The article as it appeared in OneOne3 magazine, the Birds Issue
