Realize that anyone who tries to put you down about your appearance is assuming that it is your job to please them visually. Once you realize that it isn’t your job to be visually pleasing to anyone, ever, it becomes very hard for anyone to make you feel bad about yourself.
Rock ‘n’ roll got its deserved hero. When Jack White stepped up and was like. ‘Watch me devastate your entire fucking industry and all of your expectations of rock with a plastic guitar,’ and his pal on the drums, and literally release records without bass, with beautifully out-of-tune but seriously correct parts. And on analogue equipment with a guy that basically kinda went, ‘Hey, guess what? CDs are over.’ Just at the helm of that. CDs are fucked and everyone is stealing the records on computers. It was like watching everybody in the music industry get what they deserve at the hands of this guy out of Detroit who’s seriously, seriously consumed the power of the mythological shit from Led Zeppelin and the blues elements. I mean think about that rock ‘n’ roll starts with the blues, and the real industrial part of music dies with the blues—with a fucking blues champion. Like all of a sudden here’s this hero and you can’t manufacture what that is … like really you can’t. That’s the sickest story ever.