I was cleaning out a cupboard the other day and came upon shocking evidence that I either have hoarder tendencies or that the 80s had a more lasting effect on my developing psyche than I had previously thought. Although the two-year’s out-of-date pregnancy test was certainly a cry for more de-cluttering in my life (my husband’s vasectomy was over 5 years ago), it was the pile of cosmetics I came upon that made me pause and take a hard look at myself. I guess I may not have fully recovered from growing up in the 70s and 80s. (Otherwise known as the years we ladies thought of our eye-lids as “palettes” just begging to be adorned with metallics in blues and purples.) We were “material girls” when it came to making ourselves look hawt. Apparently, some of us required more material.
This is going to be one of those “dating me” kinds of posts. But what the hell, I’m datable. (Don’t tell my hubby I said that, okay? It was like a pun, ya know? Although I admit it was pretty much crap. Not much coffee action yet this morning.)
In the late 1970s and early 1980s, wearing jeans became a near cultish thing. And I’m talking about wearing cool jeans – no more Sears Huskys for folks who didn’t want to risk a swirly in the boys’ restroom. And no, that’s not really a voice of experience on the subject. Really. I was actually too thin once in my life. Back when I was also tall. (Neither of these adjectives have been used to describe me since fourth grade, btw.) Instead of sporting the cute Geranimals look, I was the bean-pole in whatever pair of pants my poor mom could find with the word “slim” attached to the label. I definitely didn’t rock the fashion world much back then. And while I may have seriously changed my physique in the ensuing decades, the fashion world is still safe from me.