Why Being a Britpop Diva Really Shits Me

(Or Heaven Knows I'm Miserable Now*)

As if being an awkward seventeen year old in the midst of assessments isn't bad enough, I just have to go and complicate things don't I? Oh, the wreck I have become (you'd recognise the girl anywhere; perhaps huddled in the corner of some obscure record shop, clasping onto her month-old NME as if her life depended on it, inquiring one more time if that rare Elastica single has arrived, and finally cracking under all the pressure of living simultaneously in two time-zones).

Yes, I have a problem and there ain't no twelve-step program that's gonna save my soul - I'm addicted to Britpop and loving it, bittersweet cruelty that it is. While hardly anything can surpass the ecstasy of a Rage British Bands Special, the worship of such an unattainable God can't help but be tinged with a certain degree of sorrow, especially for a lone Sydneysider seemingly eons away from The Brixton Academy and The Good Mixer.

While I can't offer a survival guide (barely surviving myself) I can only hope that by sharing the symptoms of my melancholia, other suffering Divas out there will somehow be comforted by the fact that they are not alone.

YOU KNOW YOU ARE BRITPOP DIVA WANNABE WHEN:

1. Your friends and family fail to comprehend your attraction to thin, pale and often androgynous men.

Well I say keep your Keanu's and Brad Pitt's, no muscle-bound action hero is going to come between me and my English lad.

2. You unsuccessfully try to appropriate words such as "Cheers", "Shag", "Geezer", "Mad For it" and "Shed Seven" into your vocabulary.

This will usually be met by blank stares and the derisive raising of a solitary eyebrow.

3. Your wallet is empty.

What with the cost of all those imported magazines, rare singles and life-size Jarvis cut-outs, your average Britpopper can hardly afford bus fare.

4. You become an avid fan of British football.

Well, sort of... if that means wearing a Man City t-shirt because that's the team that Oasis like. "So tell me, is it Grid Iron or Rugby that they play over there?" (The Girl bats here eyelids and bites her upper lip). I am joking. Really.

5, Suddenly your social life goes down the drain when the only thing that turns you on is the dulcet tones of a British accent.

But frankly, between you and me, you'd settle for:
a) Gaz's sideburns
b) Brett Anderson's pout
c) The Gallagher brow
d) Any piece of meat in a Blur t-shirt

6. You spend most of your day avoiding both the sun and food. Vital in order to achieve the emaciated look so favoured by the young lads and lasses in Camden Town.

7. Upon hearing Noel sing "Please don't put your life in the hands / Of a Rock 'n' Roll band / Who'll throw it all away" you realise his warning has already come too late.

(The Girl emits a world-weary sigh and somewhere in the distance she thinks she hears the sound of violins rising above the rooftops...)

Good Luck and Onward Britpop Soldiers.

Katrina Schwarz

*Gratuitous Smiths quote to prove cred as a true Brit Music devotee...