feeling fanny
writer in residence sirje niitepõld ponders the unique nature of suede fans.

stay together
picture a bryan adams fan meetup. you see a load of people in the blue jeans + white tee uniform, sitting in a circle, listening to did you ever really love a woman?, teary eyed, sharing their hurtful experiences with people they know understand the pain… no, right, you can’t really picture it. picture suede fans getting together, then. easy job.

we gathered together at every gig during many golden years, and, strangely, a year after the band stopped attending the meetups and providing live entertainment, the fans are keeping together as tight as ever.

there’ve been hundreds of attempts to define the suede nation, some of them pretty accurate. it’s obvious there’s something binding the lot of us together, making the teenage kid and the middle-aged lady roll on the floor in laughter together, making us travel across oceans, making us invest our last pennies in something that, i’m told, is just a band.

the one thing i see in the most of us is a desire to feel a part of a community, to have a feeling once a year that you’re where you really belong. not needing to explain or justify your existence or presence or behaviour or haircut or the song you choose to drunkenly howl while dancing on tables.

it’s essential and it’s our right.

it’s obviously a myth that all suede fans are misunderstood, sad creatures with no friends in real life. still, there’s always something about them, isn’t there? no matter if that something is deep inside them for no one to see or if it’s neon red and screaming.

you know the way it goes. first you’re alone with that something, then you discover there’s a fella called bert singing about the same something that indeed is in everything you and him do… and then you find there’s actually a bunch of people with something about them, and before you know they’re your family.

never one to try to avoid pomposity, i’d like to say suede is an ideology, and it’s one based on escapism. running away from the grimness of life, washing the grey away. when one person on the run bumps into another, they want to go on together. i’m pretty sure a thing like that binds people together tighter than an ideology based on, say, only dancing on tables. surely crying together brings two people closer than shopping together. surely listening to suede in our lonely bedrooms has made it easier for us to admit we’re weak and vulnerable, and surely it’s easier for us to understand the weakness in others.

true, we do like looking tuff and arrogant in our make-up and high heels, and we often like to keep ourselves to our little groups at gigs. but what other community would as warmly welcome everyone from goths to pop kids, from gucci-clad drama queens to – gasp – normal people? personally, i’ve probably been in all of the above groups (where’s my gucci, though?), but the only thing i’ve ever felt i completely, one hundred percent am is – suede fan.

they took my money but they gave me an identity. one more person telling me suede were just a band and i’ll put on my red shoes and kick their face.