I saw the strangest thing in my village street yesterday: a little Paul Weller lookalike.
He had the whole feathery hair thing going on – the
too-short fringe and the too-long bits in
front of the ears, and he was wearing a nasty beige jacket and smoking something
smelly which barely concealed the scent of an also rather nasty aftershave. As our paths
crossed I could see quite a facial resemblance: the slenderness and pointed
jaw, close together eyes, a longish nose – although it was kind of like viewing
Paul Weller in a Hall Of Mirrors.
I assume he’s a fan and not getting paid for it, although I s'pose he could front a Jam tribute band . It
got me thinking, though… as a lot of fans do like to look like their idols,
which comes first? Do people remark that
you remind them of someone and then you consciously assemble
everything from there – not just the whole look, but wanting to buy their
records and go to their gigs too? Do you
have to convince yourself, maybe even force yourself, to like the output of the artist you so naturally
resemble? Or is it pure coincidence
that you’re already a fan and just happen to look like them too? Almost like there’s something in the genes –
for example, statistics show that 93% of
people with Elvis-type (‘Elvine’) features also have an innate penchant for The
King’s music. But I may have just made
that up.
When I was working in a record shop, one of our regulars was
a Gary Numan fan, who really did look like his idol. Of course the dyed hair and the black and red
outfit helped with the illusion, but he already had the basics covered in his
facial features. Siouxsie lookalikes
were also a common phenomenon in the ‘80s, but probably not too hard a look to
achieve if you have the right make-up and some hair crimpers. I’ve seen Princes, Rod Stewarts and even now
there’s an assistant at our local B&Q who’s a slightly shorter version of Elton
John. I’ve often wondered if she’s an Elton fan.
I should’ve asked them those questions. Which came first, looking alike, or liking a look?
Anyway, I saw the Modfather lookalike again this morning,
getting his fags at the paper shop. Well,
there was something about him - I just knew from his demeanour that it would really make his day to hear a
stranger say to him, “Excuse me, but has anyone ever told you – you’re the
spitting image of Paul Weller?!” or,
better still, “Erm, hello…. you’re Paul Weller, aren’t you? Wow!” Oh,
he would be so chuffed! So, feeling uncharacteristically
callous, I’m afraid I didn’t say a word.
This is great. Not sure how I feel about fans trying so hard to look like their idols: isn't it a bit creepy? I knew a bloke once who did everything he could to look like Midge Ure (Ultravox phase, not Slik, sadly); he was even featured in The Sun and was such a persistent (obsessed?) fan that he got to know Midge and some of the other 'players' of the New Romantic thing quite well. I did think it was a bit pathetic but he seemed happy enough. A couple of years ago I was at a Dweezil Zappa gig and there were a number of people who looked very much like his dad. Thought that might have been a tad off-putting for him. You were right to not feed the deluded Weller fan's madness but I did once see Van Morrison and seriously considered asking him if he knew how much he looked like Van The Man; then, remembering his lack of sense of humour, let it be.
ReplyDeleteAs for the theory about fans beginning their interest because the do happen to think they look like someone famous - that needs some serious study. It probably explains how got into both Sam Cooke and Charlie Drake.
Thanks SB - I agree, a bit creepy. Understandable to be influenced by someone's style but when it becomes an obsession to be some sort of clone it all seems rather sad and contrived, to build your identity on someone else's. A venue full of Zappas does sound like a wonderful sight to behold, though.
DeleteSam Cooke and Charlie Drake?! - ah, proof at last of this theory ;-)
Being in possession of thick hair which naturally forms into a quiff, perhaps your theory explains why I have found myself drawn to the music of both Elvis and Morrissey. That said, on the many occasions I have been to Morrissey gigs, I have found my quiff pales into insignificance compared to some of the preened peacocks in attendance...not to mention those middle-aged Moz fans clinging to the ghost of a quiff despite the encroaching MPB.
ReplyDeleteQuiffy hair? - maybe we're onto something here then! At least you don't have a shaggy perm...
DeleteThe middle aged (and younger) Weller dress ups are sometimes known as Well Ends and can be found up and down the country (and on Twitter).
ReplyDeleteHaha, Well Ends - I will forever remember that now, SA, thanks.
DeleteJust discussed this with Mr WIAA and he is of the opinion that people adopt the look of their heroes and morph into them over time. I'm not so sure - I have a feeling that subliminally people are drawn to artists they look like. Also I have noticed that lots of people are drawn to jobs relevant to their surname - Tom Kitchen the chef for starters (no pun intended). I often have to peruse our payroll at work and this theory does tally - Mr Gardiner and Mr Ploughman are groundsmen and once you get on the other categories of staff many other examples.
ReplyDeleteGlad you didn't say a word - I wouldn't have either.
I wonder - perhaps it's a bit of both - I think you've hit on something with being drawn subliminally too, seems to be human instinct to identify with those who share similar physical traits.
DeleteThe job/name thing is even more fascinating! Mr SDS and I have often talked about this too - there are so many examples and they really make you wonder what came first. I have another theory too, which is that as the name originated from an ancestor/ancestors' profession/skill etc, then maybe the calling/ability to do that job is already inherent in our genes?
Love spotting those less directly linked ones too, like 'A Tapp - Plumbing Services' etc. Sadly no such fun to be had with my real name, although I did go to art college with a boy whose surname was Painter!
C, be callous! If you don't want to say anything to your Paul Weller lookalike then at least start whistling a Jam or Style Council song next time you seem him and see if there's any reaction. Strike up a conversation with him and drop in a few questions: "Have you ever found yourself in a strange town? Have you ever had it blue? I wouldn't like to go down in a tube station at midnight, would you?" He'll either think you're mad and edge away slowly or he'll know he's been rumbled and that you know who he is.
ReplyDeleteI used to live next door to Andrew Marr in the village of Otterton in Devon and one day I walked down to the local mobile shop with him which really confused a lot of the old farmers sat out by the pub. I said good morning to them and they were all left scratching their heads, thinking who the bloody 'ell's that bloke (Marr, not me) and where do they know him from?
And whilst on this subject, I always liked the anecdote of the guy (the poet Jock Scott, actually) who went up to Paul Simon at a party and shook his hand, greeting him with the words "Hello darkness, my old friend." Paul Simon, of course, had never met the guy before in his life.
Haha, brilliant...that imaginary conversation. I am far too soft, I'd walk away worrying that I'd hurt his feelings... my inner callous self could only fantasise about delivering those lines (or discuss his absurdity on a blog...) I just love that idea though, such scope...
DeleteLove your Andrew Marr tale. Reminds me of when an ex-colleague once went to a show in London and sat next to a man she she recognised from somewhere but out of normal context just couldn't fathom where. Then she twigged it, oh yes he must be someone who worked across the way in her large office complex, so she asked him. "No, not me - I don't work there," Paul Nicholas replied....
Ah, interesting! Perhaps it's time someone did a serious study on the subject (I could make a start next time I see Paul Wellerish, I'll ask him some questions).
ReplyDeleteIt is weird about the attraction of a celebrity lookalike. For some reason Mr SDS has been likened to various people in his time, and one music personality in particular in the '80s - not intentionally - it always felt a bit freaky when people thought they recognised him for being that man (I won't say who!) Especially as they then wondered who I was (unlikely the aforementioned celebrity would have had a *girl*friend!)
I am squinting now whilst trying to imagine a short Axl Rose lurking in the shadows and all I can see is Chuckie in a bandana...
Only got this comment once, Yve, so no problem - but, oh, not sure I'd want to be thought of as a hybrid of Jimmy Sommerville and Preston the bulldog if I was that man. Although if he ever committed any crimes it could make building an Identikit image a bit easier, I guess...
ReplyDeleteLove your stories, C. I'd like nothing better than to be living in my own English village.
ReplyDeleteYour post reminded me of a holiday in the U.K. a number of years ago. Somebody mistook me for one of your soap stars and actually rushed out of a chip shop to accost me. I wasn't amused or flattered - it was Mavis of Coronation Street. (I hope it was due to my having a very bad hair day!)
Ah thanks, Marie. Life in an English village has its perks!
DeleteSo funny about your 'Mavis' moment! Do you remember her catchphrase "... I don't really know..." - would have been a laugh to trot that out, but in a Canadian accent - very confusing!
I still dine out on the time I was mistaken for Robyn Hitchcock while in New York - it was the single coolest moment in my life. Terrific post C - 'I assume he’s a fan and not getting paid for it...' I nearly choked myself with laughter.
ReplyDeleteThat is a very cool and feasible lookalike - and to be someone whom you admire too, doesn't get much better!
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