I came across this eighties pictorial on MSNBC the other day - Oh my God - the memories! The Hair!
Oh yeah, baby. I was She-Ra, queen of planet AquaNet back in the day. I had a spiral perm, scrunched up socks, parachute pants and zippers EVERYWHERE.
For me, coming of age in the eighties wasn't like most people's rosey memories of a simpler time. There was nothing simple about the eighties. Makeup and fashions were bright and frequently scary, and girls either wanted to be a material girl, a GoGo, or a flashdancer. They all wanted Tom Cruise to sing to them in a bar, or dance around in his underwear in front of them. He never did much for me, even in his heyday. I was more of a Ferris Bueller girl, myself. Hell, even Ferris was out of my league. I was a Cameron girl. I could definitely relate more to feeling like you're not fitting in with the world around you.
I don't miss much from that era, really, but I do miss the music. There was an energy and an optimism about it that we just haven't seen since. Probably because most of us had parents with jobs back then, I suppose.
It was a sad day for me when I threw away my last pair of jelly shoes. I finally realized that they made my feet sweat ridiculously, and hardly anybody was wearing them anymore. It was the end of innocence. The end of Don Henley songs and $2 kamikazes at the local bar in my college town. Time to grow up, get the job, and get on with life.
The hair gradually went down and straightened out, and so did I. It was like I deflated somehow. Where did that perky Debbie Gibson wannabe go? And how do I get her back for awhile every now and then?
You know, if I push the bangs up just a bit, it would probably look all right....