Before seeing Courageous this weekend, I sat through the trailer for the remake of Footloose.
I might be the only 40ish woman in America who did not see the original back in the ‘80’s.
(photo from here)
For the record, I never saw The Breakfast Club either.
What can I say, I grew up 30 miles from the nearest movie theater, and my parents still watched Lawrence Welk on the weekends.
All this 80’s revival going on has gotten me thinking about growing up and growing old.
Lately, I’ve been hearing some 80’s music in the grocery store.
Browsing the bakery aisle, I’ll catch myself humming along with Huey Lewis and the News or John Cougar Mellancamp.
Back in the day, my friends and I were die-hard Air Supply fans.
“I’m All Out of Love” belted out with appropriate teenage angst will bring a tear to the eye.
The perfect man would be Australian or maybe British.
Those were the days of Remington Steele, after all.
(BTW, I had a fedora just like hers, because Stephanie Zimbalist was, like, cool. Totally.)
For you young folks among us, here’s how it works:
after you’ve been out of high school a few years, the songs you listened to your senior year end up on late-night TV as a two-disc collection (or in my case, two cassettes) for $19.95
plus shipping and handling.
It’s the first sure sign that you’re OUT.
The world has moved on.
Then, around the time your kids are teenagers,
you’ll start hearing all those songs on the classic rock station.
Then you’re retro.
Another word for that is OLD.
Now all we’re missing is a true 80’s fashion revival.
Though I’m surrounded by leggings and tunics and shirts that droop over one shoulder at the middle school, I’m still waiting for the return of
My senior year, I stuck 27 hot rollers and half a can of mousse in my hair every. single. morning.
Instead of forehead burns from the flat-iron, we sported ear blisters.
On second thought, maybe youth is overrated.