Casual-Youth Culture 88 days ago

'Casuals', 'scallies', 'perries', 'chaps': there's a style war being fought on the soccer terraces today and it's quite as competitive as old-style hooliganism



In the eyes of the media the typical teenage football fan is still a lout with dirty jeans, dirty jacket and scarves draped about his body. Or else he's a psychopathic skinhead with with big boots and no brains.
For some, however, these notions are now wildly out of date.
'You've got to get dressed really smart to go to football because everyone else is. If you went looking like a tramp you'd be a laughing stock,' a 'casual, a youngster who not only goes to football matches but also goes to astonishing lengths to ensure that he looks right for the occasion. Looking right means labels on everything - labels that show how much you've had to spend to look that casual - a uniform of imported sportswear that could set you back £200, or to put it in the terms of 1983, two months' dole money.


The trend can be traced back many years to when Adidas training shoes and hooded rain- tops began to filter through from athletics tracks to football grounds. They were a smart, sensible kit for kids who had to stand out in the open and who might have to run from, or after, opposing fans. But since then it's escalated to the stage where Adidas is strictly for has-beens as ever more exclusive and more expensive sportswear becomes the sign of a football supporter who's in the know when it comes to terrace fashion.
Most football violence those days is between consenting juveniles, small, dedicated gangs, often of the most obsessively dressed kids, like the West Ham 'lnter-City' gang, the Leeds 'Service Crew' and the Portsmouth '6.57 Crew' (Scum), all named after the trains they travel on to away games in order to avoid the police who invariably escort the supporters who ride the specials. These 'crews' will go out of their way to fight teams their club aren't even playing and will often know the members of other crews by name and reputation. But for most supporters football violence is something they only read about in the papers. And dress is becoming an ever more important form of competition.
It's difficult to ascertain which club's supporters were the first to start the casual craze. In the letters pages of The Face, the music/youth style magazine that was the first to pick up on the look, there's been a Times-like debate on which 'crew' is the best dressed and where dressing for football began. Depending on your allegiances, Liverpool or London is the place to look for the strongest and latest in what's been dubbed 'terrace chic'.
In May 1981, Liverpool played Real Madrid in the European Cup Final at the Parc de Princes, Paris. Paris Soir reported the antics of the Liverpool supporters with some incredulity. They were drunk, of course, but they weren't out to fight anybody. They were shoplifting, but they weren't after jewellery or expensive electronic equipment. They were after training shoes, tennis shirts and tracksuits.
In particular, they were looking for Nike training shoes, Lacoste T-shirts with the distinctive crocodile on the front, Sergio Tacchini shirts and tracksuits with the emblem that John McEnroe flashed all over the TV screens every Wimbledon. Fiorucci jeans, too, stone-washed and skin tight, long enough to put a three inch split in the bottom so that they lay neatly over trainers. These were topped off by a Pringle jumper and a heavy 'wedge' haircut that fell behind the ears but over one eye.


In London exactly the same style was appearing, the latest refinements spreading rapidly by the constant interaction of away games and away supporters. In Manchester they were 'perries' because of their predilection for traditional Fred Perry shirts. In London they were 'chaps' who drew on a legendary 'wide boy' heritage by donning £80 cashmere sweaters and scarves, £120 Burberry macs or full Fila, Ellesse or Tacchi