The eighties...

I admit it. I'm an eighties tragic. My kids are right. I have not moved on. I freak out if a hairdresser brings a straightening iron near my hair because I don't want it flat...I want it big. Big hair, I have decided, makes me look smaller. Ditto for shoulder pads.

I just heard that 'Dallas' is making a comeback on television and I felt suddenly....elated. J.R and Sue-Ellen are back!!! Duran Duran are touring the world again. The seventies were the hippy years or punk years depending on your style, the nineties were all about grunge or geek. I was too busy raising children to notice what the 2000's were...not much I don't think unless you count war and hatred....this tweenie decade is still unfolding and so far we ain't got much so I think the planet has realised that we might as well go back to the eighties which was the last time 'style' had any real fun.

My kids look at retro fashion and listen to the catchy tunes and gag. But they just don't get it. The eighties were brave years when self-confidence reigned supreme. Technology was just getting a leg up and the music industry was burgeoning like a moist and fetid jungle. New talent was blooming and musicians, fashion designers, artists and film makers were experimenting and taking things to extremes. There was the smell of promise in the air. They were exciting times. They were the teenage years, kind of awkward and gangly, but brash and foolishly confident.

Sex was less sinister, music was for its own sake and apologetically fun, movies were memorable, art was bold, and everything was technicoloured. Fluoro pinks and greens. Makeup was worn like war paint and dressing up was de rigeur...Adam Ant, Boy George, Split Enz, Kiss........

It was so much fun despite the next generation of greasy-haired, flannel shirted drones trying to make us ashamed of our childish excesses.

I'm glad 'Dallas' is coming back. The world needs more mega-bitches in power suits. 'Dynasty'.

My new novel is set in contemporary times but with an over-the-top eighties feel. The plot is ridiculous, the characters all bold and beautiful, the stakes are high and the love triangles messy.

I am painting on metallic silver nail-polish today and teasing my hair into a fuzzy, lop-sided Flock of Seagulls style. I'm going to wear a shiny pink jacket over black and white stripy leggings and purple fringed boots. People will assume I'm schizotypal  (one symptom being - wearing gaudy clothes) but I'll just be recapturing the heady days of my youth. But if I collect my teenage son from school like that, he would disown me. I'm not cruel or terribly brave so I will only wear my nostalgic get-up while writing in my office and will put on some suitably beige mum outfit for school pick-up duty........

Being a writer is all about embracing fantasy...forgive me.

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