This is where the closed-eye talking, higher-thinking, punk bourgeoisie, we're smarter than you, but we don't care, everything weird is cool, but not too cool sub-culture shops... for everything. This group is sustained by the most basic of the aweful. Food is not fuel, in their world one must thrive off of attention. But paying too much attention to anything (mainstream) is the enemy of the state.
I can't wait to purchase this $36 t-shirt and wear it proudly, but not too proudly. I mean, what shirt, oh I didn't even notice what I was wearing:
Or this bag for the misc. things I carry, like my thick frame glasses with no lenses, my old gameboy from the mid-90's which doesn't work, my ipod with the complete works of Belle & Sebastian installed, something with a bird on it, cigarrettes, mustachio wax, a copy of Moby Dick, a spiral note book with gibberish written on every page/both sides so people can see I'm full of ideas, a guitar capo, a Lubitel camera from the '60's that only takes black and white photos, an old copy of MAD Magazine, an even older copy of Rolling Stone (when it was cool) with Little Richard on the cover, an extemely posed picture of myself doing something "meaningful."