80’s Fashion Victim

One thing I did not get into in the previous post is that there were some pretty cool outfits at 80’s night. I just dressed normally, because I don’t know that I could put together an 80’s ensemble out of anything in my closet. I didn’t mention it, because I realized it would open a whole new can of worms. This goes back to the guitar thing again, in a way. As I was listening to so much music, and reflecting on it, I found myself wanting to wear jeans.

To give you a bit of context, when I was a really little girl I hated wearing pants, because they were scratchy polyester things. Then, after getting my first pair of jeans, that was all I wanted to wear ever. At some point, though, I guess around college, I switched to wearing other kinds of pants, usually knits. Jeans were really expensive, and I was a very poor college student. (Ask Mom sometime about coming to visit and seeing the holes in my shoes. That memory still haunts her.) Jeans did wear better than the knits, but not in a manner proportional to its price.

Jeans are of course much cooler than inexpensive knits, but “cool” has just been off the table for so long that I tend not to think about it. Also, if you don’t sew (and I don’t), you can pretty much only find what is in style, and that is often not something that works well for my specific body type. Neither skinny jeans nor low-riders would be a good look for me. The point is, my clothing decisions tend to be more based on what I can live with, rather than what I love.

Based on this, it is not unreasonable that I started thinking about jeans, and wanting to wear them again, but then when I thought about having a bandanna around the knee, I knew the music was getting to me. That was ill-advised even back then, and it would be ridiculous now—especially with my legs. It did cause me to think back on some of the other times when bands have made me a fashion victim.

First let me backtrack and say that one thing Julie and Maria have lamented about growing up is that they did not get any guidance on hair and makeup and clothes. This was a role where a big sister could have been helpful, but not the ones they had. My hair requires more taming than styling, and I don’t like wearing makeup. I would try it sometimes, but it never really stuck.

Personally, I think they did better than they think. Sure, looking at the photos now, where the bangs were divided in half, with the bottom half being formed into a shelf jutting out and the top half fanning upwards, yes, it does look stupid, but it was totally fashion forward. I think they wanted to feel attractive, but they were overweight teenage girls from a poor family—that’s at least three reasons why it was never going to happen.

The outfits they put together were fine for teenagers in the 80’s, and mine were too, when I bothered. There were odd little spurts. For example, one year I took an art class and we studied complementary colors and other type of color relationships, and that was what led me to combine purple and yellow. Most of the bad ideas came from pop stars, who made these bad ideas look really good. For example, I remember watching Duran Duran’s “The Reflex” over and over again, trying to figure out what was going on with John Taylor’s shirt. It had enough fabric and concepts for three shirts, so it was confusing. But he is a ridiculously handsome man, and it worked for him.

One could not always find the same things that the pop stars wore, but we tried. The newscap and the suspenders? Those were from a-ha, and he really only wore the cap in one photo, which should have told me right there that it was not a great idea, but I had already bought the hat. The white fedora? Actually, a lot of people wore those, but none better than Duran Duran, and Nick wearing those loafers with no socks not only led to us wearing those, but No Socks was also the name of our band. The rubber bracelets were a-ha again, though I had one and they had many. I do feel embarrassed about the magenta pants now, but at the time it was something one did. Wearing them with a white t-shirt, with a long shirt unbuttoned over it, (and the fedora) was totally happening.

I could never find a bullet belt. I think you needed to leave the suburbs for that, and this was before the internet. If I had found one, I totally would have worn it. I did have a nice dangling metal belt that set off the alarm in the library once. I guess it was a little magnetic.

The only thing I really tried that was not from pop music was from television. When I affixed several chunky, sparkly pins to a denim jacket, that falls squarely at the feet of Detective Judy Hoffs, 21 Jump Street. (Actually, I did not watch Oprah, but I believe that shawl/scarf thing I wore came about because of other people who were watching her.)

The problem with all of it for me (besides the often questionable, cocaine-fueled tastes that set the standard) was that it was really just playing dress-up, and I never had the patience to stick with it for very long. I would experiment here and there, and then go back to jeans, shirt, and sneakers, like always. Well, I did wear loafers a lot in the summer, and I did wear them sockless, but still, it was for comfort, not fashion. There were two accessories that I loved, and wore a lot, and they felt like they were completely mine.

One was my father’s leather jacket. Bomber jackets were the style, but this was a biker jacket. Still, I know it was cool, because the guy in the locker next to me wanted to buy it for his girlfriend. (Even if it was mine to sell, and even if I didn’t love it, no. She was a horrible skank who only liked him for the things he bought her.)

I think part of my love for the jacket was that my best memories of Dad are when he would take me for a ride on the back of his motorcycle. I initially thought it was a Honda Goldwing. Later on, something led me to believe that it was in that style, but a much cheaper model by another manufacturer. I don’t know, but it didn’t matter. I loved riding that bike, and then it was gone, sold and replaced by a Corvette with much less pleasant associations. Since he was no longer riding, I could wear the jacket, and I did, a lot. (I never tried the leather pants that came with it, and I think this was best for all concerned.)

I wore the jacket with a studded leather wristband. That also would have been hard to find in the suburbs, but I didn’t. I found it standing in line for the Matterhorn at Disneyland. I don’t feel like it was particularly hardcore. It was stamped “Elvira: Mistress of the Dark” on the inside, and I don’t think that’s where the crowd at CBGB’s was shopping, but I liked it. It was also associated with good memories, because I loved Disneyland, especially the Matterhorn, like I loved motorcycle rides. (I’m kind of a speed demon, and I don’t get motion sickness, and it just all kind of works.)

I did not wear the wristband every day. I kind of saved it for special occasions. I remember wearing it once for a biology test, and the day I was acting as Lise’s bodyguard, though that day it wasn’t so much for luck as to show that I meant business.

I do remember some teachers looking at it a little sideways, like ‘Really? You?’ I get it. That was 9th grade. I had a 4.0 GPA, I swept the academic honors at the end of the year, and I was an absolute delight in class. Only Mrs. Darling would disagree, but she was 8th grade and that was largely her fault.

Maybe I was just always destined to become a punk rocker. I did watch Rock and Roll High School every time it was on TV, even though I had no idea at the time how much I would love the Ramones. At the same time, yes, I was smart and good, and I did not start trouble, but also when Shon wanted to fight me she backed down, and I was able to act as a bodyguard, and when Steve tried ripping my shirt open my knee went directly to his groin, without even thinking about it. You don’t have to be stupid and a jerk to be able to throw down; it just gives you more opportunities. Ultimately, the leather did feel like me, and the fact that putting it on did not require much effort probably helped, but was not all of it.

Not long afterward Dad stopped speaking to me, and maybe that was why I didn’t wear the jacket anymore. I had my letterman jacket then, though, so there was something else to wear, and I don’t really even wear coats that much. When he left, he took it with him. I don’t think I even have any pictures of it. I do still have the wristband, but I am a 40-year old woman, with some sense of propriety. Maybe if I ever need some extra luck.

I guess what I am really saying is that at some point I may end up buying my own biker jacket.