Rethinking alternative youth identities in Izmir: ‘Indifferently cool’ manifestations

Introduction

This article works with the concepts of authenticity, individualism and originality with reference to different aspects of the meaning-making processes of ‘alternative’ young individuals in Izmir, Turkey. Over the past century, there has been an abundant use of these concepts with reference to the modern individual and her or his place in society. Here, I use them to make sense of self-identification processes of a group of young people. I argue, despite their instabilities, these concepts are employed by the young participants of this study as definitive identity markers. I realise that styles/leisure activities of the subjects of this research are not distinct from global subcultural formations, but I assert nonetheless that their cultural backgrounds and educational capital change the meanings attributed to their style and cultural practices. As Hebdige (2002) points out, ‘it is basically the way in which commodities are used in subculture which mark the subculture off from more orthodox cultural formations’ (p. 103). Hence, even though cultural practices including style, niche consumption or leisure activities may be shared components of the global hipster scene at large, the context and the ways in which they are being deployed by the participants of this research make them ‘their own’ and foster ‘locally authentic’ subjectivities. Rather than claiming that there exists a homogenised global culture and that one has to be a part of it, I argue that it is possible to be local, particular and authentic, all the while sharing globalised cultural values and practices. When elaborating on the defining role of individualism, originality and authenticity with reference to the identity construction of young people, Taylor (1991) states,

Being true to myself means being true to my own originality, and that is something only I can articulate and discover. In articulating it, I am also defining myself. I am realizing a potentiality that is properly my own. This is the background understanding to the modern ideal of authenticity, and to the goals of self-fulfilment or self-realization in which it is usually couched. This is the background that gives moral force to the culture of authenticity, including its most degraded, absurd, or trivialized forms. It is what gives sense to the idea of ‘doing your own thing’ or ‘finding your own fulfilment’. (p. 29)

On a similar note, I argue that these concepts can be put to use as fruitful analytical tools in expanding our understanding of subcultural formations among alternative youth in Turkey. Thus, through focusing on their own narratives and daily life practices, and drawing on the above-mentioned concepts, I aim to rethink the ways in which cultural identities are formed in these alternative youth groups and examine the characteristics and semiotic resources within them. The study will contribute to youth studies from a non-Western context, particularly with its focus on how global hipster subcultural formations are experienced among youth who have grown up in a religiously oriented authoritarian government that has been in power for almost two decades. This is important because the experiences of these young individuals are likely to differ from those of alternative youth in Western European countries, in turn offering insights into alternative youth cultures from a different perspective.

Notes on field research and methodology

Labelling the subjects of this study has been a challenge from the very beginning. Despite the fact that the participants of this study are commonly referred to as ‘hipsters’, I have deliberately chosen not to use this term. Instead, I have adopted the terminology of ‘alternative youth’ when talking about my participants. The youth I have talked with very consciously preferred to use this term in describing themselves. This was important for me as I wanted to give voice to my participants. During the focus group discussions, I have realised that my respondents preferred this ‘categorisation’ because they positively embraced the heterogeneity they believed was inherent in it. They fervently rejected homogenising labels such as ‘hipsters’. This form of behaviour is in line with Maly and Varis’ (2016) research on hipsters where they argue that a much more multilayered set of cultural meanings are employed in the processes of identity construction among youth:

The fact that hipsters and (certain) hipster indexicals have global purchase should not be mistaken to mean that hipster culture is a homogeneous globalised subculture . . . We have established so far that the hipster culture is a layered and polycentric translocal culture. Some of its identity markers are truly global, others very local; some very hard to acquire and establish, others relatively cheap (such as buying one’s identity at American Apparel). What is absolutely crucial – and global – in defining a hipster is the claim to authenticity, uniqueness and individuality. (pp. 642, 644)

The young people I interviewed all strongly emphasized individuality. Even the concept of subculture was out of date and overly ‘popular’ for them. For instance, a respondent stated in a focus group environment as follows: ‘There is no such thing as subculture in Turkey. We just refer to all of them as “alternative”’ (Ege, age 23). Another interviewee sneeringly asked, ‘Is there still such a thing as subculture? I do not think so’ (Can, age 23). Similarly, another participant stated, ‘People who think that they are members of subcultures do not have the power to transform their music style into a whole way of life in Turkey. So subculture becomes nothing more than what you listen to’ (Arya, age 18). These expressions refer to a pattern in which young people tend to reject the idea of subculture as an identity category.

Taking the lead from my participants, I have also preferred to categorise my participants under the broad rubric of ‘alternative youth’ because I also believed that it would be a more accommodating term for a diverse group of individuals who share a communal identity and the same symbolic meanings and reflect these meanings through their style and cultural practices despite their individualistic differences. It is this communality or these commonly shared symbolic meanings that set these young people aside as an ‘alternative group’. While there is a variety of spheres where one can see this communal alternative identity being reflected, their visual appearance seems to be one of the most prominent of these. Furthermore, it is also in their appearances that their specific individualities are embodied. These young people tend to have an outlook combining the 1960s hippie influence, 1980s eye-catching trends and 1990s grunge style. Some of the common pieces in this outlook involve high-waist jeans, oversized sweaters and denim jackets, colourful funky shirts, geek-style glasses, knit caps, variations of white sneakers – also known as dad’s sneaker – and so on. This outlook can be completed with dyed short hair (pink, blue and grey are the popular colours), old-school-style tattoos and long beards.

The data used in this article are acquired from a 6-month-long period of field research in the Alsancak district of Izmir. A brief insight into Izmir is required in order to situate the city as the scene of the field research. While Izmir is one of the major metropoles of Turkey, it is a city with definitive distinctions from Istanbul, for instance. One predominating characteristic of the city is its relatively sterile cultural environment. While this does not of course mean that there is a homogeneous culture, it hints at a much less cosmopolitan identity. Izmir has long been known for its ‘modern’ and ‘Kemalist’ outlook with a ‘secular’ and ‘Western’ oriented cultural and political texture. In fact, Izmirians in general boast that their city is a refuge within the context of the current, religiously oriented conservative political atmosphere in Turkey. It is one of the few cities in Turkey in which the governing Justice and Development Party (AKP) has not been able to find many supporters since its establishment. Contrary to right-wing populist features of the AKP with its traditional/religious/Eastern identity, Izmir is quite orthodox in its alignment with the principles of the Republican People’s Party (CHP) which generally constitute the secular Western/modern cleavage with an elitist outlook. In this regard, it can be claimed that Izmir is a city that is religiously, ethnically and culturally much less heterogeneous than Istanbul. However, this situation also leads to a different kind of hegemony that supports the antagonistic camps (‘secular’, ‘Western’, ‘Kemalist’ versus ‘conservative’, ‘religious’, ‘traditional’) and strengthens the general perception that Izmirians hold an ‘elitist’ point of view towards other cities of Turkey. The subjects of this study generally feel that they do not belong to either of these two camps and tend to adopt a politicised viewpoint revolving around rights and identities. Hence, they constantly put emphasis on the relation between harassment and lifestyle which manifests itself in pseudo-victimisation. I argue that situating a study on alternative youth within such a context becomes valuable in that it gives clues as to how these young people – with their cultural codes that draw from both Istanbul and the global cultural scene – contribute to the transformation of Izmir from within.

The field research consists of participant observation, in-depth interviews and focus group discussions. During the participant observation, I have spent time with alternative youth in places they frequently ‘hang out’, such as artisanal coffee shops, vegan/vegetarian cafes, second-hand and vintage shops, art cafes and bars. This has enabled me to establish organic connections with my subjects and to be immersed in their everyday cultural practices. Furthermore, three focus group interviews were conducted where each group consisted of five to eight alternative young people. The number of participants in these discussion groups was 18, with an equal number of female and male young individuals. To compliment these focus groups, five in-depth interviews with the owners/workers of the places were carried out. Hence, the total number of respondents was 23. I chose the first line of my participants while I was doing participant observation in cafes, bars and concerts, and initiated my sampling process through a selective sampling, with my criteria loosely being their style, voluntariness, age and gender. Later, I enlarged my sample through snowballing. All participants of this study were between the ages of 18 and 25. They defined themselves as Western-minded, middle- and upper-middle-class university students and ‘alternative’ to ‘mainstream’ lifestyle in Turkey. I conducted my interviews within focus groups intentionally so as to be able to tease out common values, norms, motivations and actions that they might have.

Research on youth cultures in Turkey is not a new area of study. However, there is still much need for in-depth knowledge on contemporary identity projects that draw on comprehensive field research. Some prominent studies that have laid the grounds for this field can be cited as Ozyegin (2015), Parmaksızoğlu (2009), Tığlı (2012), Çelik (2008), Hecker (2012), Neyzi (2001), Saktanber (2002) and Soysal (2001). This article is a modest attempt at contributing to the ongoing discussions on youth cultural identities with a focus on the microcosmos of everyday life practices of alternative youth in Turkey and the ways in which these young people identify themselves and make sense of their world. It is hoped that this in turn may lead to much-needed further research in order to achieve a better understanding of the transformations of society at large and its members’ commonly shared cultural values and beliefs. In what follows, through highlighting a number of prevalent themes, I have engaged with the narratives these young people use and the dynamics that are at play in their self-identification and meaning-making processes.

Indifferent coolness and pseudo-victimisation

One significant trait that alternative youth in Izmir think a young individual ought to possess is what can perhaps be conceptualised as ‘indifferent coolness’. This notion of ‘indifferent coolness’ is quite abstract, as it has no tangible features. What is meant by this in general is a set of attitudes or behaviours towards life and society that mark the ‘indifferently cool’ individual as appearing unconcerned or interested but at the same time aware of everything. ‘Indifferently cool’ manners play a key role in the ways in which these alternative young individuals express their identities. In fact, the emphasis on this notion is so strong among these young individuals that being ‘indifferently cool’ is almost one transcendent theme that is found in most interviews. This is a similar notion to what Thornton (1996) refers to in her study about acid-house subculture as ‘not trying hard’. According to her, there is nothing more harmful to cultural and subcultural capital than trying too hard:

Nothing depletes capital more than the sight of someone trying too hard. For example, fledgeling clubbers of fifteen or sixteen wishing to get into what they perceive as a sophisticated dance club will often reveal their inexperience by over-dressing or confusing ‘coolness’ with an exaggerated cold blank stare. (p. 27)

Similarly, one of the participants supports Thornton’s (1996) argument with the following words: ‘Cool means ‘effortlessly sexy’ for me. You cannot be cool just because you want to be cool’ (Su, age 25). In this sense, being ‘indifferently cool’ or portraying indifferently cool attitudes stands out as a prominent feature for these young people in fulfilling their sensibilities concerning alternativeness and coolness.

Being ‘indifferently cool’ is a must for all these young individuals with regard to their perceived ‘individuality’ and ‘authenticity’. They explicitly state that they are cool because of their distinct style and opinions. When elaborating on this idea of indifferent coolness, these young people strongly emphasise the notion of ‘style’, which they use as an umbrella term to explain not only their outlook but also all artistic expressions that exhibit their social, political and cultural background. In the words of these alternative young Izmirians, style is meant to be much more than simply wearing unusual dresses or having an interesting hairstyle but makes reference to an inclusive term to confirm and prove their coolness among peers. As an interviewee stated,

I think people who have different opinions and artistic talents such as music, painting or writing are cool. But their style, interests and hobbies should match each other. For instance, I want to guess what they like from their appearance but also their manner of speaking, posture, behaviour are equally important for me. (Selin, age 23)

The importance Selin gives to a holistic perception of being cool when observing other people is clearly evident in her words.

While this holistic perception seems to be a prevalent idea among many of these young people when they talk about coolness, they also emphasise that ‘individuality’, ‘originality’ and ‘authenticity’ are also indispensable traits of being cool. When asked what it means to be cool, ‘original style’ stands out as a pre-condition for almost all of them. For instance, Tolga’s (age 20) definition of cool is as follows: ‘People who have originality in their style are cool’, which shows us the importance of ‘originality’ and ‘authenticity’ in their self-identification. While they all seem to be aware of the fact that not every individual can have her or his unique style or leisure activities and simply be ‘authentic’, they nevertheless argue that imaginative and ingenious meaning-making processes are prominent determinants which can make someone ‘different’. Thus, they use authentic, different and original interchangeably, claiming that the meanings one attributes to her or his style or hobbies vary depending on cultural and educational capital, and distinguish one person’s style from another. A respondent made reference to this argument through the example of tattoos, for instance:

it is very common to see the exact same tattoo you have on someone else, but I do not care, because I am the one who determines the meaning of that tattoo. However, if I see the same tattoo on someone whose style I do not like, I might be irritated. But even then I would probably think that it looks better on me. (Deniz, age 24)

On a similar note, another respondent stated, ‘I think most people want to have a tattoo that nobody else has but if it carries a meaning for you, what difference does it make?’ (Can, age 23).

In this respect, the word ‘style’ bears a transcendent meaning; thus, a variety of cultural meanings and connotations are attached to this single word. It encompasses almost all of these young individuals’ everyday practices, leisure activities and the ways in which they engage with the social world. For instance, as one interviewee mentioned in a focus group discussion,

style reminds me of the kind of dress, shoes, hair style etc. someone has and how s/he combines these items. But actually all of them signify something. For example, what kind of books, TV series or music they like. (Deniz, age 24)

In the same manner, another respondent in the same focus group emphasised the transcendent and sophisticated connotations attached to the notion of ‘style’ by making reference to how style should not come about accidentally but should be created through conscious choice:

sometimes people do not know the meaning of what they wear and this never makes them stylish. If you listen to Turkish folk music but look like a punk, you are a fake punk, and this can be understood easily. (Tuna, age 23)

Hence, while the young alternative Izmirians follow the latest global trends to create and shape their styles and tastes, they also ingeniously re-create these cultural practices and attribute new meanings to them to enhance and emphasise their ‘difference’ and ‘alternativeness’. In this sense, contemporary youth cultures and identities need to be seen as being in a state of constant flux. In the words of a respondent, this fluidity and fluctuating state of being is explained as follows: ‘my tastes can change very quickly but people do not understand this. What kind of books, movies or music I like can change in just a few days because what triggers changes in one’s opinion is awareness, not age’ (Efe, age 22). As Hall (1996) argues, it is not possible to talk of unified and stable identities in contemporary social and cultural spheres, but rather they are more likely to be ‘. . . increasingly fragmented and fractured; never singular but multiply constructed across different, often intersecting and antagonistic, discourses, practices and positions. They are subject to a radical historicization, and are constantly in the process of change and transformation’ (p. 4). It is my contention that what Hall (1996) reminds us with regard to the fluidity of cultural identity applies with utmost validity to alternative youth in Izmir and their self-identification. To sum up, I would argue that all meanings that have an influence on the worldviews of young Izmirians who define themselves as alternative exhibit a great variety.

Their challenging of generally accepted cultural values has been transformed into a creative and fruitful meaning-making process in their everyday lives with new cultural forms and practices. It is through their opinions, emotions, body language and style that different aspects of meaning-making processes are demonstrated. As one of my respondents stated in an interview,

I definitely define myself as ‘different’ because the culture that I live in is not my culture. I am different but this does not make me good or bad. But people in Turkey are mean and ugly. I just feel that I am not one of them. (Deniz, age 24)

On a similar note, another participant I have interviewed suggested as follows:

I am alternative and I am not doing this on purpose but I like to be original. Honestly, I do not want to read the same books or watch the same movies as ordinary people. People are ignorant and disrespectful in Turkey. They only read silly books or read articles on social media. I cannot enjoy the same things they do. They think that they are thinking just by ‘scrolling’ on Facebook. (Su, age 25)

As can be observed from the narratives of these young people, they position themselves as different and alternative to the widely accepted cultural values and beliefs of society which they perceive to be somewhat homogeneous. On the one hand, they describe their difference through positive signifiers such as original, intellectual and different; on the other hand, their ‘alternativeness’ stems from the meanings that are created through taking a stance against ‘mainstream society’ and ‘its culture’, all the while ignoring the fact that they are also a part of the cultural diversity and heterogeneity in society. These young people’s self-expression on the basis of difference entails the common belief of their non-conformity. They emphasise that their different style, leisure activities, intellectual interests and cultural capital, on the one hand, create authentic and original signifiers among them, but consequently lead to otherisation and marginalisation in the broader society. They have mentioned on numerous occasions that they have become victims of hate speech in society due to their ‘difference’ and ‘marginality’. The most common problem they complain about is the judgements they face because of their different looks and style. As a respondent stated, ‘One day I was on the bus, a guy just looked at me and said fuck off, grumbling about my appearance’ (Berk, age 20). They are being harassed, judged and looked upon condescendingly not for their actions, or for any actual disturbance they create, or because of any illegal acts, but simply for their ‘otherness’ which seems to stem from their clothes, styles, values and tastes. What a respondent stated in an interview, for instance, was highly representative of most of the other participants’ experiences:

When we go out for fun, people stare at us as if we are aliens or as if we are naked. We face this discrimination just because of our different style. That is why I do not prefer to go to free concerts or cultural activities, because other people make me uncomfortable. (Derin, age 22)

On a similar note, Berk, another respondent, stated his discomfort in the following words:

I am a youtuber and have a fashion channel. I always feel that the majority does not have any respect for my job. I usually receive inappropriate and sometimes abusive comments about my videos. They do not have any aesthetical perception. I wish I had not been born here. (Berk, age 20)

While all narratives of harassment seem different from one another, they all have a common point I refer to as ‘pseudo-victimisation’. At first, these harassment stories may seem like the reflections of their negative feelings towards Turkish society; however, these experiences are also turning into an important component of their self-crafting process. While these young people constantly complain about being otherised due to their difference or ‘alternativeness’, they seem to be reproducing this behaviour themselves through their own expressions that otherise the rest of the society. They tend to construct their identities by creating an oppositional relation through otherising people who constitute the ‘majority’ in their mind. This is precisely the reason I choose to refer to this process as ‘pseudo-victimisation’ as opposed to ‘victimisation’ per se. It would be misleading to refer to the participants of this research as actual victims for three reasons: first, because they are in effect privileged members of the society with regard to economic, cultural and social statuses; second, because they self-inflict this victimisation upon themselves; and third, because they themselves adopt the same discriminatory discourse towards the rest of the society. I argue that these expressions of alternative individuals and indifferently cool attitudes are reshaped and strengthened by the pseudo-victimisation process which they embrace ardently, and consequently, it has become an important component of their identity project. In sum, while this does not devalue their experiences or make them less meaningful, referring to them as pseudo-victims allows us to emphasise their marginalisation without overlooking their privileged positions in society.

These experiences of harassment may be linked to the rise of polarisation and intolerance in Turkish society that may be claimed to stem from the populist political discourse of the past two decades. As the focus group discussions illustrate, living in a socially, culturally and politically suffocating environment brings about a resistance through neglecting of the ‘other’ or, in most cases, through creating new power relations with a superior position against the majority. These negative feelings towards difference and the rise of polarisation became more apparent particularly after the 2011 general elections in which the AKP adopted a populist discourse with an increasing exclusionary rhetoric. The emphasis on the power of the people and national will has begun to dominate the agenda with reference to the distinction of morally inferior and inadequate groups in society. The polarisation among the citizens of Turkish society deepened during the Gezi Park protests in 2013, and the secular–religious cleavage became more evident:

Erdoğan’s answer to the Gezi Park protests was further polarisation, exclusion and dividing of the society into two enemy blocks: those who support him and those who do not. Populism has gained a new character, increasingly capitalizing on the secular-religious cleavage. (Yabanci, 2016, cited in Özçetin, 2019: 945)

Then, following the presidential elections in 2014, Recep Tayyip Erdoğan took the power and announced his desire to create a pious generation. Lüküslü (2016) expressed that

the myth of a modern and national youth, prevalent in Turkey’s political culture since the nineteenth century and reinforced by the Kemalist Republic, is being replaced by an Islamic one or in Recep Tayyip Erdoğan’s words: an ideal young person carrying a computer in one hand and a Quran in the other. (pp. 637–638)

The politically tense environment of Turkey, the polarisation in society and the ‘secular’ identity of Izmir might be the main reasons for both their lack of interest in politics and the problematic discourse they adopt – without being much aware of it – in their own otherising and elitist language:

I have nothing in common with this culture and in the same way no sense of belonging to the society. I do not think that this society is conscious and educated and the only thing to do is to change the mentality of people if we want a better future. (Derin, age 22)

While Derin was showing her displeasure because of the ignorance of people in the society, Su (25) supported her opinions and feelings in similar vein: ‘If it was possible, I would gather all the people that I like in an isolated area and live together happily without the society’.

While this leads to a perception of pseudo-victimisation among these young people, they do not seem to believe that a solution can be found through politics. As one respondent states,

I refuse to vote in the coming elections because all of them are the same for me. I do not like their opinions or actions so I gave up. I do not want to be involved in anything in this country (Su, age 25)

On a similar note, most of the other participants also expressed their lack of interest and negative feelings towards politics but stated that they do find politicisation around rights and identities – such as gender equality, animal rights or environmental issues – very meaningful. For example, one of the interviewees suggested,

It makes me uncomfortable even just to say that I am feeding street animals because I don’t feel like I am feeding them per se. I love them, I look after them, I feel like I am sharing my life with them. (Berk, age 20)

Similarly, Derin expressed that going vegan or vegetarian is a matter of awareness: ‘You cannot be a vegan in one day or because of its popularity among your friends. You have to dedicate yourself’ (Derin, 22).

As the narratives of the respondents show, there is a strong alienation from party politics. Instead, canalisation towards politics and social issues through civil rights and movements such as lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender and queer or questioning (LGBTQ) rights, environmental problems and animal rights has become more prevalent. What is common in all these narratives is that all the young people explicitly stated that they wanted to interact neither with mainstream society nor with its cultural practices. The cultural identities of alternative youth are constructed through the rejection or denial of the dominant values, norms and beliefs of society, which shows that they need to be considered within the framework of power relations and through their relation to the ‘other’.

Nostalgia, bricolage and cultural industries

The ways in which alternative youth in Izmir deploy a wide range of semiotic forms to better define themselves, to distinguish themselves from the ‘majority’ and to give meaning to both the cultural artefacts they use and their social worlds in general are quite striking. Van Leeuwen (2005) argues that

semiotic resources are not restricted to speech and writing and picture making. Almost everything we do or make can be done or made in different ways and therefore allows, at least in principle, the articulation of different social and cultural meanings. (pp. 3–4)

Accordingly, I would argue that various forms of signs and signifiers are deployed in abundance by the young people of Izmir in their attempts to give meaning to the world around them, to create new cultural forms and to influence and shape their leisure activities in general.

However, as Bourdieu (1984) argues, one has to know all about the cultural symbols to be stylish and authentic. Hence, the capacity to combine cultural items and turn them into something fashionable requires both cultural and material capital:

Looking at the role of cultural capital, knowledge in the fields of fashion and music or ‘knowing what is going on’ allows people to position themselves vis-à-vis current developments and is therefore of great importance. Mixing styles and avoiding one-dimensionality requires knowledge of styles; one has to master the cultural signs and symbols in order to skilfully play with them and to make them one’s own. (Michael, 2015: 177–178)

The creation of style which is continuously renewed with cultural knowledge including popular fashion, music and dance is an essential component of the identity projects of alternative youth. They make choices by constantly selecting and excluding the elements of these taste forms, in turn creating their own cultural identities through navigating, collecting, combining and cannibalising many different styles and cultural forms. In this respect, I find Böse’s (2003) ‘style surfing’ term useful to discuss how social and cultural practices are in a constant state of flux in the context of subcultural formations:

Opposed to the 1970s, the 1980s and 1990s have been described as post-modern ‘decades of subcultural fragmentation and proliferation, with a glut of revivals, hybrids and transformations, and the coexistence of myriad styles at any one point in time’ where individualistic subculturalists ‘move quickly and freely from one style to another as they wish’, a practice referred to as ‘style surfing’. (p. 169)

What Böse refers to as ‘style surfing’ is highly evident among alternative youth in Izmir. In fact, I would argue that it is their blurred and fluid tastes that give these young people the freedom to choose from a variety of styles and cultural spheres, which in turn enables them to foster new semiotic combinations through a process of bricolage. In this sense, the bricolage culture of alternative young people involves the mixing of symbols and products from the past with contemporary cultural practices, values and meanings to produce new cultural products and meanings with cultural depth. However, this cultural production does not necessarily need to be a mixture of the past and the present; it can also be something imaginary. As Boym (2001) eloquently puts it,

Creative nostalgia reveals the fantasies of the age, and it is in those fantasies and potentialities that the future is born. One is nostalgic not for the past the way it was, but for the past the way it could have been. It is this past perfect that one strives to realize in the future. (p. 351)

The form of fantasised nostalgia Boym (2001) mentions – a product of creative imaginary – is an integral part of the cultural identities of alternative youth in Izmir, and was clearly visible in a music/cultural festival I attended where I gained insights into the leisure activities and cultural practices of young individuals.

‘The Epic Fair’ is an annual festival which has been taking place in the old historical park of Izmir called ‘KültürPark’ since 2016. The content and the aura of the festival were overwhelming, in that for a moment in time The Epic Fair transformed the pejorative ‘old school’ and traditional, but nostalgic, image of KültürPark into something ‘vintage’ and ‘cool’, similar to the way in which second-hand shops re-popularise 1980s blouses with shoulder pads and mom’s jeans. For instance, some of the singers/bands had organised their performances like pavilion artists did in the past, while at the same time exhibiting their disparity with those days of old. There were electronic covers of old Turkish songs, which are notably popular among alternative youth today. Similarly, plenty of new bands and singers performed experimental music with mixed elements from the past and the present. As Frith (1996) argues, ‘music, like identity, is both performance and story, describes the social in the individual and the individual in the social, the mind in the body and the body in the mind . . . ’ (p. 109). In this sense, the festival was a cultural spectacle consisting of a collage of the old and the new – an outright manifestation of the ingenious cultural bricolage of the alternative youth in Izmir. One can argue that the emergence of new music genres, specific leisure activities and consumption practices of these young people is a reflection of the bricolage culture and identities they create.

I would like to note here that this mixing of the past and the present is not something confined to the festival nor the city itself, since the rise of a contemporary alternative wave of cultural practices is related to the turn in popular culture in general. The popularity of television series and films that use social and cultural settings of the 1970s, 1980s and 1990s; vintage and retro collection of global fashion brands; and games which use the art style of 8-bit games are all worldwide phenomena. Hence, on the one hand, alternative youth are nourished by these signs of popular culture, and on the other, by using these elements they are able to create their own complex signifiers which can be regional/local/global/glocal interchangeably, all at the same time. As mentioned before, authenticity is an important tool in youth’s identity construction process, but it also refers to ‘the re-creation or revival of objects and motifs from the past’ (Jenß, 2004: 387–388). Thus, regarding their style, it is not wrong to claim that a common feature of these young people is their love of nostalgia and their ‘ironic’ way of expressing this admiration. Correspondingly, it is not surprising that these young individuals take an eager interest in vintage and retro culture. Vintage and retro clothes, accessories and commodities relate to their hobbies and are fairly widely appreciated among alternative youth, but there is no stereotype that dictates how their style ought to be. Rather, this fluidity and wide range of options allows them to create ingenious meanings and foster alternative cultural identities, and herein lies their authenticity within a broader sphere of cultural sameness.

For example, Doğa (age 19) articulates how she used to frequent second-hand shops and flea markets because of her obsession with vintage stuff and rare items: ‘I found one of the most beautiful leather jackets in the flea market. It had a spirit. Besides, it was extremely cheap. I think it is original because I have not seen anything like it on anybody but me’. When the recycling of vintage/retro cultural artefacts becomes a prominent way of expressing authenticity, one can argue that there is no limit to kitsch and bad taste in alternative youth’s style. As McRobbie (2005) argues, popular culture products might be good because they are simply awful (p. 18), and the alternative young people of Izmir also tend to use the same sensibilities to create authentic and unique selves. The reflections of these sensibilities can be seen in all forms of cultural artefacts they produce, including electronic/indie music, literature, retro style, vegan food/drink culture and so on. In fact, a new indie music movement has emerged in Turkey – called ‘third new wave’– with poem-style long lyrics with the influence of new wave and indie rock/pop background but without having aesthetic concerns in a literary sense, and it has been popular among these young individuals. Rather than creating a brand-new music genre, using the features of the global music scene, this movement tends to focus on local and individual stories of these young individuals with their own way of absurd and sarcastic manners. Reynolds (2011) argues that this worldwide interest in recycling, recursion and retro culture is highly related to the turn in the global economy, which hampers the emergence of new mega genres or movements but has led to the emergence of ‘re’ decade:

. . . shifts – from musical production/innovation to postproduction/recombination – paralleled what was happening to the wider economy: a transition from making money through making stuff to wealth generation achieved through information, services, ‘signification’ (style, entertainment, media, design, etc.) and, most unrooted of all from the real, the finance sector’s manipulations of monetary value. (p. 419)

The emphasis on this bricolage culture is so prevalent that it has become an integral part of the neoliberal politics and transformations of space and the city in general. The proliferation of new third wave coffee shops, vegan/vegetarian cafes which love to serve ‘mom’s olive oil dishes’, second-hand shops, and bars and streets where alternative youth hang out are all examples of this ongoing change. Hogarty (2017) argues that global neoliberal policies and the decline of the welfare state in the post-1980s period have paved the way for less ‘original’ and homogeneous artistic creations, and this process ‘breeds nostalgia for the more futuristic past’ (p. 3). In line with this discussion, The Epic Fair was like a carnivalesque reflection of this nostalgia and cultural bricolage that seems to be at the heart of alternative youth cultures. One of the organisers of the festival who also owned a ‘cool’ as well as a popular bar among alternative youth in Izmir shared his opinions about this urban transformation with the following words:

I had always dreamed of organizing a music festival and I had set my mind on doing this in KültürPark. Because it was like a Central Park with a beautiful atmosphere, yet no one had appreciated its value. We went to all the official institutions to get permission to arrange the festival but they did not support us, hence we launched a social media campaign and invited everyone to gather at Kültürpark. I believe that we were successful in creating awareness. Later, even an academic paper was published about it. Then I managed to make friends with the owners of the pavilions and they agreed to rent out their places which actually served them in good stead because they moved up the social ladder from cheap and cheesy weddings to trendy and stylish weddings (Arda, age 36)

As Arda expresses it, organisations like The Epic Fest have an influence on the cultural side of this transformation. It could be said that the Kültürpark gained a brand new ‘hip’ identity among alternative young people but also increased its visibility and popularity among the local community.

In his work on subcultural styles, Clarke (2006) emphasises the ‘sphere of leisure’ because, according to him, leisure is the area of choice where styles as well as class relations are the most visible. In his words, despite the fact that leisure allows ‘relative freedom’ with ‘symbolic activities’ and provides for a ‘displacement of central class concerns and values’, leisure is still highly affected by financial capacity (pp. 147–148). While cultural capital is an integral part of the leisure activities or styles of the participants of this study, the sphere of leisure must also contain elements that require financial capital. Young people I have interviewed explicitly stated that they do not have any financial difficulties or have a relatively comfortable lifestyle with very few financial constraints. As a respondent expressed it, ‘I think we live a comfortable life. Sometimes I have financial problems but my overspending on alcohol or weed is the only reason’ (Efe, age 22). Being financially well-off or living at least an upper-middle-class life style is almost a prerequisite for being an alternative young person in Izmir. In addition, the fact that the cafes, bars and shops known as ‘cool’ and ‘hip’ where alternative youth hang out are quite expensive, and can be said to be consumption-oriented enterprises, goes a long way to support this claim.

Despite the fact that the primary defining aspect of alternative youth cultures might specifically be their ‘alternativeness’, their sphere of leisure is itself a ‘product’, and consequently, these young people are part of the vicious circle of the cultural industries for which they have such a distaste. One of the first second-hand shop owners in Izmir addressed this issue as follows:

When I first opened this shop, there was nothing in this neighbourhood. Then, second hand, vintage shops started popping up, a few new third wave coffee shops, nostalgic cafes selling gazoz (traditional Turkish soda) appeared and, some so called entrepreneurs who have no idea about the mentality need to run these shops began to copy what they saw. Now, all the cafes and shops are the same. There is no creativity or authenticity. Besides, they are the reason for excessive prices in our business. (Levent, age 32)

A very similar complaint is uttered by another café owner whose café is popular among ‘alternative’ youth in Izmir:

I always aim to create a cultural sphere for youth with independent artists’ concerts, art exhibitions, film screenings and try to do this without any commercial motive but I observe that other café owners take the advantage of this idea of a ‘cultural café’ and turn it into a completely different concept with a capitalistic rationality. (Emre, age 36)

These two similar expressions show that, on the one hand, changes in the sphere of leisure have been a driving force for urban transformation in Izmir, offering new spaces and opportunities for the identity construction processes of alternative youth. On the other hand, however, as Emre mentions, it leads to an increase in prices as well as the commodification of the idea of culture-café, so that there are only a few places which have the potential to create cultural fields for alternative youth.

To sum up, the niche consumption practices and cultural commodities of alternative young individuals in Izmir enable them to form new ways of sociality, new ways of artistic expressions and new forms of cultural codes with each other. Although these consumption practices and new forms of expression in the sphere of leisure require at least being financially well-off (alongside intellectuality) to make stylistic acquisitions, this bricolage culture with different expressions and specific regional, local or glocal cultural meanings may be considered as a new creative way of production in culture which is crucial for youth’s self-expression and construction of individuality. In this sense, one can claim that in the cultural practices of these young people, there are manifestations of different forms of subversions-from-within. In addition, however, by means of this niche consumption, they are an integral part of the global cultural industries, and through the ways in which they consume or make use of cultural artefacts they forge unprecedented creative cultural forms.

Conclusion

This article is an attempt to understand the identity projects of alternative youth in Izmir. It is aimed at examining the ways in which youth cultural identities and their meaning-making processes are constructed by focusing on their own narratives and everyday life experiences. While it may not be possible to fully understand the cultural formations among alternative youth solely by looking at their specific cultural practices, such an understanding is not possible simply through a cursory examination of their culture at large either. This article endeavours to combine a micro-perspective where it investigates the daily cultural practices of these young individuals with a macro-perspective where there is an attempt to form links between these cultural practices to reach a holistic understanding. One sure way to understand the dynamics of a society, among others, would be to examine the microcosmos of everyday life and shed light on its fragments. An acceptance and a better understanding of these fragments in a society would increase awareness of the diversity in it and the interaction among the multifaceted cultural formations that make up society itself.

The study focuses on complex, hybrid and authentic youth cultures embracing group identities as well as individualities within these groups. I argue that authenticity, originality and individualism are a number of predominating characteristics in the self-identification of alternative young Izmirians, embodied in ‘indifferently cool’ manners against the ‘mainstream culture’. Throughout the article, these characteristics are discussed with key concepts like style, pseudo-victimisation, cultural nostalgia and bricolage, and the ways in which these phenomena interact with various forms of cultural industries are scrutinised. I argue that different cultural meanings and connotations are attributed to a single word – style – which refers not only to the participants’ visual appearances but also to their artistic expressions and opinions on social, cultural and political issues. The participants express that their style leads them to become subjected to harassment and makes them feel an ‘outsider’ in society. While this feeling of being an ‘outsider’ may at first sound problematic, as one digs deeper for a better understanding, it becomes apparent that this pseudo-victimisation becomes an integral dynamic for these young people’s identity projects which is highly related to the social, political and cultural context of Izmir and Turkey. Furthermore, the individuals I have interviewed are accustomed to living in a society under the rulership of an authoritarian state. Witnessing its gradual rise at a national level as well as experiencing its consequences at a cultural and societal level, they not only challenge the mainstream culture but also take a stand against traditional values, beliefs and any restrictive practices that the Turkish government imposes on them.

Then, I point out that while bricolage culture and spheres of leisure and consumption all require financial capital, the precedence of cultural and educational capital is undeniable for these alternative youth. This intellectual accumulation enables them to use the signs of popular culture from the global subculture scene to create their own complex signifiers. Therefore, the reflection of cultural bricolage is a vital element of their identity construction because it is not something confined to their styles or hobbies, but rather it spreads into all spheres of their everyday life which helps them form new ways of sociality, new ways of artistic expressions and new forms of cultural codes. On the other hand, these consumption practices also bring about transformations in urban space. In fact, they are an integral part of neoliberal politics. Places that used to be looked down upon or neglected by the youth such as the historical Kültürpark or Bornova Street in Alsancak neighbourhood have gained popularity among them, which has affected the socio-economic aspect of the city. I conclude this discussion by suggesting that these cultural forms created by young people become integrated into the cultural industries and popular culture, yet their ingenious meaning-making processes still have the potential to create hybrid and diverse individual cultural creations as well as commonly shared norms and codes for their communal identities.

The scope of this article has been to map out some of the major themes encountered in the meaning-making processes and identity formations of alternative youth in Izmir. It is hoped that this in turn may pave the way for much-needed further research in this field. In this sense, I should like to see this article as a contribution to discussions on youth studies in Turkey.