LONDON UNDERGROUND (1999)

Borrowed a friend's London Underground uniform and collected tickets from the travelling public at Surrey Quays tube station. Lost my nerve after about fifteen minutes.

It seems the presence of an official, recognisable logo will do wonders for ones credibility. Although my contract with Debenhams Plc was voluntarily terminated by myself in September of last year, I am going to put on my Debenhams uniform. It will no doubt still feel as comfortable as it was each day I wore it during my ten month tenure as a sales assistant. This initial infiltration endows one with a feeling of authentic gravitas. I know the store vernacular and procedure inside out. I then grapple with the frightening prospect of now actually walking into the branch of Debenhams on Oxford street in London wearing this same uniform, finding my way to the womenswear section where I was previously based and beginning the task based action of sorting the shirts in the Casual Club range into size order until something happens.

A number of events could then transpire. I may be approached by a member of public requesting assistance with the location of a particular size of garment, for instance. At this stage, the provision of help could be problematic unless I know where the store room is. I may be approached by a superior member of staff; perhaps they will ask me where I am from as they do not recognise my face as being from this department. I am still wearing the correct uniform however. I even have an employee of the month tie clip to bolster my credibility. Security staff are a great worry of course. My proposed department store incursion may be intercepted immediately by the closed circuit surveillance equipment that tend to proliferate through our modern shopping areas. In this case, my presence could be seen as a threat to store security, and the outcome could be my forcible removal from the store or the alerting of higher authorities; no doubt any sojourn into the stockroom would be viewed as legally unacceptable. I am uncertain as to the powers that private security staff have vested in them but an attempt to leave the store to avoid incarceration may have to be an option, despite running away being a tacit admission of some form of 'guilt'. If such an extrication from the environs of the store proves impossible, there is always the option of feigning illness; I do not believe the risk would be taken of not calling an ambulance if I were to begin convulsing in a spectacular manner.

It has occurred to me that my continued possession of staff uniform could be contravening a clause set forth in my staff handbook. I have a recollection of signing a form to indicate my receiving a uniform which I would have to sign again to confirm the return of these garments. Although the second signature was never requested, I would probably also be guilty of some kind of theft in the sense that these clothes still belong to the company and not me. Perhaps a preferable strategy could be applying for work again at the same company, but a different store. Again, Oxford Street springs to mind. There is of course the option of biding ones time. I like to think that climbing the greasy pole to the height of, for example, line management could be an option, only then to document ones predetermined fall from grace into patterns of strange behaviour. Of course, my contribution to the development of the company before this would be one of brilliance. My record of service will be impeccable only to be followed by a gradual move towards strangeness; little idiosyncrasies would appear, perhaps initially too much in the realms of minutiae to be taken onboard.

A reputation is preceded by a certain set of assumptions depending on ones appearance. One doesn't necessarily have to stick ones head above the parapet. By its very subtlety of execution, the significance of the suggested act for any given viewer is difficult to interrogate. We only know that my actions may make a security guard 'uncomfortable' and these ripples spread out to a crowd who will cease to 'behave' in the requisite manner, stepping out of the ecstatic consumer reverie. In the hierarchy of 'significant actions' performance need not be located higher up the scale than making a cup of tea. However, the care that goes into that simple set of routine actions is immense if one requires the 'perfect' cup of tea. A set of instructions in a performance can tell me what to do, but not necessarily how to do it. Interpret the word 'walk'. Walk into Debenhams. To achieve this form of anti performance, i.e. to attempt not to perform, to reduce myself to the figure in the crowd, my walk cannot be performed. I am now conscious of my presence in the space; I do not feel anybody else is however; not at this stage. I'm still waiting to see what happens. I become my own audience, my self awareness at an acutely high level. The premise is that the greatest form of subversion is of the subtle variety. Perhaps there is even a complicit flirtation with the subject of ones critique. Perhaps when one is on the 'inside', here is where the real damage can be done. Don't drop out. Stay in school. Don't grow your hair. Shave regularly. And wear a suit and tie as often as you can.