You are unique. That’s what your mum will tell you. But then anti-racism and anti-bullying campaigns will say “you know, we’re all just the same!” They’re right. The truth is that it’s that desire to be different, or to fit in as the case may be, which renders us all the same.

Helen makes people call her Rain, paints a star on her cheek and makes all of her clothes out of recycled junk. John makes people call him Braddaz, puts a Nike Air on each foot and buys all his clothes from JJB. These two might as well be the same person since their huge effort to lie at opposite ends of the people spectrum is common to both. If they truly wanted to be ‘different’, they’d just realise that that’s a stupid idea and opt for the ‘normal human being’ route.
As for a factual, rather than hypothetical example, I recently went to an ‘indie rave’ gig, where more than the odd Russell Brand-esque, bouffanted boys in neon technicolour jeans were to be spotted. So, ok, if you saw one of these spectacles on the street you might be inclined to stare, but it’s surprising how many carbon copies of the same one will gather in one room, in one city, at the first opportunity to brandish a glo-stick.

I mean, really, what is this fascination with being a kook, other than a cry for attention? You go around in a spangled pink jumpsuit and matching hair, and you have to at least expect a degree of staring and whispering. If you expect it, then you must want it at least fractionally more than you don’t, otherwise you’d be dressed like a regular human. Now this isn’t necessarily a bad thing; Gwen Stefani can quite effortlessly pull off the kook-look. The key to this, though, is that she’d be willing to admit that she enjoys the attention, after all, she’s a celebrity.

Not to be a hater, but I hate the indie trend that’s currently burgeoning. Let me explain why the lifestyle ironically labelled ‘indie’, short for ‘independent’, is a fallacy and altogether wrong. Consider, first, that as of 2007 the Brits (awards for popular British music for you uncultured folk) will no longer host an award for Best Pop. Yes, the Arctic Monkeys, as talented as they unquestionably are, have been the death of British pop music. Since the tsunami of Joe Mancs and cockney rakes in skinny jeans and cravats, the boy/girl band has faded into oblivion. Our only hope is that Take That can sing at us long and hard enough to inspire a noughties pop movement. God speed.