Carl Perkins in 1955
On a Facebook thread the other day, Straight Outta Compton (which I loved) was being discussed and a guy showed up and said he didn’t like hip hop, he said he had a “visceral reaction” to “the bling.”
But bling was (and always has been) a symbol of triumph/reveling in success/a signifier.
Carl Perkins’ parents were sharecroppers. He sometimes worked from morning till night. He’d go to school, and would pick cotton before school and pick cotton after school. Poverty. And then – like with so many of these guys, then and now – he went from poverty to having money in a very VERY short period of time.
“Bling” is an upraised middle finger to the poverty in your past, a triumphant statement along the lines of “getta load-a what I just did, all by my damn SELF.” Of course you would want your wealth to be seen by all. What would be the point otherwise?
Elvis never wore blue jeans (unless when appearing in movies – and if you are familiar with Elvis, it always looks a little weird.) because when he grew up, strapped to his mother’s back as she picked cotton in some muddy field, blue jeans meant you were poor. He wouldn’t let the people around him wear jeans, either, and hazed poor backup-singer Larry Strickland (and husband to Naomi Judd? Maybe they’re on the rocks now, but whatever) when he showed up in Vegas for a rehearsal wearing overalls. Elvis could be bossy (like, who are you to tell other people what to wear?) but the pain/shame of being poor and HAVING to wear denim left a scar. The second he made money he began to buy rings, and suits (from Lansky’s on Beale Street, a place he would visit just months before he became famous – at least regionally, and stare inside longingly, face pressed to the glass), and more cars than he could drive (for himself and for others). Of course the consumption was obsessive. He grew up not having enough to eat.
All these guys – Carl Perkins, Sam Phillips – and all the blues artists who inspired them – dressed to the NINES the second they got a paycheck and would buy an entire head-to-toe pink suit and a bright red felt fedora, or an entire electric blue suit, or glittery rings and watches. Attention-getting. As Dave Marsh observed in his Elvis book (and it could apply to all these guys): what Elvis wanted, more than anything, was to be an “unignorable man.” This is what unremitting poverty does to a person, the shame it activates, and sometimes the determination. Bling is a message. Bling is a warning.
This monologue has been brought to you by the vision of the shining spats on the guys in the clip below, and the outfits, and Carl Perkins’ shirt, and the DONE hairdos. Look at that FLASH. Three years before Perkins still had day jobs picking cotton. Imagine what you would do with money if that was your trajectory. Imagine what all that flash really means.
It doesn’t just mean that you have “made it.” It means that you have made it OUT.
Great post! I never realized how few pics I have ever seen with Elvis wearing jeans. I always learn so much when I visit your blog!
Courtney – Thanks so much!
Yeah, you never see him in jeans – ever! And only in the early movies – Love Me Tender, Loving You, Jailhouse Rock – is he in jeans – to kind of connect him to Dean and Brando and all the other rebels. But once he hit the 60s, he was sleek and refined – in suits and tight (TIGHT) dress pants – or, conversely, little clinging swim trunks.
Boy, he hated blue jeans. They made him feel ashamed.
“Understanding solves all problems, baby!”
Seriously speaking: amazing what a little empathy can clarify. I went to private school (on scholarship) where people still talked about WASPs, girls still wore sweater sets and pearls, and you wore diamond earrings only at night. I still wonder whether I should wear mine to work!! Unsurprisingly, none of the people I knew came from families that had been truly poor for very long.
Nicely and pithily put, Sheila.
// Unsurprisingly, none of the people I knew came from families that had been truly poor for very long. //
Fascinating!
yes, it shows up in all populations, I think. Of course, nouveau riche can be so obnoxious and tasteless – but it also comes from a recent experience of true want.
There was some conversation on FB – I put up a picture of the front room at Graceland – with the all-white furniture and rug – the gigantic sun-burst mirror – the stained class wall divider in the shape of a peacock – and some guy made a comment about how “tacky” it was and – it actually hurt me – even though it’s not my house. My pal Charlie blazed in and said, “This is the house of a man who grew up in a shack – and is one of the most touching and homey houses I have ever been in.” And he put it so perfectly.
A very insightful post. I knew this on the surface but realize now, not really. You may have softened my hatred of grills and chains, ha.
Also, reading your stories about Carl Perkins and Elvis makes me open my eyes about my dad. We made fun as kids because he wouldn’t wear jeans, even fixing the car in slacks and dress shoes. He came from a large immigrant family of farmers. Wearing his suit and tie and driving a brand new car (instead of a beat-up farm truck), he loved it when they called him the city cousin when he visited the farm. Guess it was his own form of bling.
// he loved it when they called him the city cousin when he visited the farm. //
That is unbelievably touching.