Saturday, June 16, 2007


Recently, feeling strangely moderne, proactive and interactive, I called out to the ether and asked what the 1980s were like for anyone reading that post.
Andrea said...

Ah, the'80's. Those were the days. Graduated high school. worked away from home in the summers & had the best time of my life. A few interesting jobs. No one particular career. But the best, was the music. All of it. What about you sweets??

Brian said...

Sad and bereft because I didn't know you.

China Blue said...

Learning to play records. Infant/junior/primary school.
Big Yellow Teapot. Swing Out Sister, Pet Shop Boys, Eric B & Rakim. Puffball skirts and my first jheri curl, acceptable in the 80s only, at age 8. Not being allowed to watch Eddie Murphy's standup videos, but being allowed to watch Nightmare on Elm Street.
80s = early childhood :-)

David said...

What were the 80's like? Well for the part that I was actually alive, mostly blankness. :-P

Seriously, it was my best decade. I got more action back then than I do now. Ha!

David said...

Absolutely fantastic, big hair, shouder pads, tiny waist, eating disorder, Bronski Beat, Dynasty, Non Stop Ecsatic Dancing, boyfriends, broken hearts, drama, drama, drama, Bang, poppers, Sue Ellen, Royal Weddings, Nathan Jones, boxers, Libfraumilch, Neighbours, Ooh to be Arghh

zona said...

full of interesting music

marriage (82) eleven days to 25th anniv

first three children (83,85,88) miss 88 has high school graduation tonight

got the job I currently have (88)

the eighties were the beginning of the road I'm on now

japanesewhispers said...

80's ... Primary school, big hair, Spinker Hotel in Gourock where ma Mammy worked, Culture Club (Karma Chameleon) Mel & Kim (Respectable) Diana Ross (Chain Reaction) How did my parents not know by the time I was 6? Listening to my parents Genisis, Dire Straits and Peter Gabrial tapes in the car.
Did my adverts get you thinking about the 80's dearest Minge?

Krafty Bitch said...

Donna Summer, Gimme A Break, elementary school, playing in the woods, baby brothers, The Jeffersons, Whitney, iron-on tees, my secret decoder ring, entering adolescence, angst, middle school and depression...they started out so promising

Moncrief Speaks said...

They were the baseline experience of my life, subliminally what I judge everything that follows against. Reagan as the forever president, Madonna, broadcast television, "The Cosby Show followed by "Family Ties," summertime swimming lessons, high school, middle school, late elementary school. Everything formative, even that which I don't realize still permeates me.

Bill S. said...

I was in elementary school towards the beginning, wearing matching corduroys, turtlenecks, and sweaters, lusting (unbeknownst to myself) for Bo Duke, listening to Duran Duran, watching "Danger Mouse", and reading comic books. The only thing that has really changed is the clothing.

At the conclusion of the decade, I was in high school, my head shaved except for my bleached blond bangs, wearing a lot of black, writing bad "poetry", and listening to the Smiths. Funny that I'm more like how I was in elementary school than in high school. Thank goodness.

ucallmemadam said...

If I had been born I would let you know
japanesewhispers said...

Ahhh Danger Mouse and Bananaman! Mysterious Cities of Gold and Roland Rat ... I hated Roland Rat! He-man, She-ra, Thundercats, Pigeon Street, Transformers Lunch Boxes, Rainbow! Oh how I miss bungle Zippy and George. Oh "Let's Pretend" and Playschool!

You were probably watching Grange Hill by then I imagine!

DanProject76 said...

Frustrating as a gay teenager in a Daily Mail world.

But the music and tv was great.

David said...

@Japanesewhispers: Since you remember the Mysterious Cities of Gold, do you also remember Spartakus and the Sun Beneath the Sea? I remember them as a duo and I wish I could get my hands on copies.

EmmaK said...

Wearing a big 'Frankie Says Relax' t-shirt over leggings, using far too much stinking hair gel, having a massive quiff and trying to be a 'psychobilly'. Having a massive crush on Paul Weller. Going to night clubs from age 14 like the Mud, the Wag, in London, on a school night. The 80s were ace.

For me, the 1980s were a strange mixture of depression and euphoria. My younger brother and former brother-in-law tried to embarrass me in front of others, calling me nancy boy and other derogatory nick names. Conversely, I discovered sex and sexuality. What a thrill, a wave on whose crest I'm still riding. I also found Margaret Thatcher exciting. Everything about her was wrong, yet exciting she was, though, it must be said, I found her exciting in the same way I find slasher and horror movies exciting. Princess Diana thrilled me. Although poor, I adored to see people, especially in the run up to the 1987 general election, rich - and flaunting it. Young me, working in the city. Blue shirts, red braces, coiffed hair, huge packages. Listening to Pet Shop Boys was my highlight, the pinnacle of which was theit Christmas #1 single in 1987, an achievement to be fought over back then, not something guaranteed to the winning contestant on a production-line-pop talent contest.

Also, in 1987, my brother gave me a cat for my birthday. Curiously, he now sometimes claims he did not, but gave the cat to my Mother as he could no longer look after her. If that's the case, I want my birthday present from twenty years ago, please.

I called the cat Smokie. I was keen on wacky spellings back then. I liked donuts and lo-cost products. Smokie got an ie, not a run of the mill y. That's how special she was.

She was a dear and tender cat, though did suffer. A road accident nearly finished her off, a hysterectomy was required while she was pregnant and she hated the new girl, Babsy - and then her young son a year later. As the years went by, she changed from some fairy like creature to a Victor Meldrew of the feline world. In her last years, she bit and hissed. But I still loved her.

Very sadly, after losing weight, possibly her sight and becoming incontinent, Smokie lost the will to live on Thursday. My Mum took her to the vet who told her the kindest thing would be to let her go. As strange coincidences go, this takes a lot of beating. Tearful, Mum agreed. With the vet listening to her heart as the needle was inserted into a vein, Smokie left this world before a drop of poison entered her body.

God rest her soul.

I came from Bournemouth in the South of England. We used to have lots of parties where everyone dressed up in drag. And on one party invitation was the quote, "She was never butch, dear." My life's been about a battle between butch and femme, growing up, failing to do so, the ideals we had when we were young and wondering how they've turned out.

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