It’s been an interesting week of time travel that made me grateful for being born when I was. First, I added myself to the list of the many who’ve no doubt been stood up by Drew Barrymore over the years. Some gal pals and I went to the Silent Movie Cinema for a screening of Foxes that was to be hosted by Ms. B, who was a no-show. But she was not, in fact, the draw to this particular event. Not for me anyway. It was advertised as a “girls only pajama party” with wine coolers and a sundae bar (!) – how could I NOT attend?
Much to my delight, I was not the only one to arrive in robe, pj’s, curlers and such. (Oh, and FYI, I don’t recommend driving in Bunny Slippers as I nearly learned the hard way.) The theater was filled with grown-up teenage girls, mostly about my age, and who were equally outraged when some boys were permitted to intrude (they had purchased their tickets online, ignoring the “girls only” policy, and the theater couldn’t deny them entrance, alas. Still, I guess no slumber party is complete without boys trying to crash.
What was great about the event was this sense of camaraderie, humor and nostalgia that brought a room filled with strangers together like this. There were no boys to impress, no self-consciousness or airs to put on. We were the girls Cyndi Lauper sang of who “just want to have fun.” I’m glad to know they still exist. I meet too many young females these days who seem more interested in snagging a guy to put a ring on their fingers than being, well, interesting, quite frankly. Life first, then boys, Ladies. Trust me on this.
The movie was a fun visit to a former time when most in attendance would have been about 10. We cat-called at Scott Baio, identified with Jodi Foster and laughed at a young Randy Quaid. We bonded as we swayed and sang along dreamily to Boston’s “More Than a Feeling” which played on the otherwise Donna Summer-driven soundtrack. How familiar it all felt!
I revisited this feeling again last night when Agustin and I joined about 4,000 of the people we grew up with at a somehow still intimate English Beat/Squeeze concert. (highlight of the evening, Dave Wakeling dedicated “Can’t Get Used to Losing You” to his liver) As I looked around, I realized I was back in 1984 surrounded by my peers donning all manner of fun costumes – suspenders, bowlers, white patent leather shoes and the likes. We all greeted one another with fond smiles, as though greeting old friends. The guy who served us margaritas at the concession stand laughed as I commented, “Man, we don’t even need our fake id’s this time – sweet!” and he launched into his own fun tales of our crazy 80’s youth.
Then a darling mod guy pass by and I sighed dreamily. Sure his tummy was a bit rounder, his face with more lines, but he was still most charming and I’m glad to know he was still around (if my buddy Anne were there I would have said, Hey, it’s your boyfriend” and she would have gone right up to him and made it so, bless her).
Then I spotted a bewildered-looking kid who didn’t seem to fit in. He looked lost in his non-descript jeans amid a sea of mods. I was suddenly reminded of a B-52’s concert Agustin and I attended a few years back. The crowd there had been comprised of 2 demographics: half had been about our age and older – the original fans, the other half in their early 20s, clearly riding the “retro-80’s” new “new wave.” I’d laughed because it was the older folks who donned the crazy multi-colored beehive wigs, giant platform boots and walked invisible dogs on taut novelty leashes. The “young ‘uns” wore boring jeans and t-shirts and looked at us like we were all positively nuts. I heard one comment to his clone buddy, “Old people are weird.” I laughed, but then felt bad for them. Were they too jaded for such antics, or had it not even occurred to them to be part of the joke?
I suppose every generation looks at the ones behind them with concern, but when I look at “kids today” many make me sad. Are they still “free to be you and me?” as Marlo Thomas raised my generation to always remember and strive for? Can they appreciate irony? Do they still find meaning in a meaningless world? Do they know how to make their own fun?
I remember how my mom would groan some mornings when I’d head off to school in one of my frequently outrageous costumes. In retrospect, I don’t blame her for a few of the less than tasteful ensembles I put together, but hey – I was developing my voice – they couldn’t all be masterpieces.
Still, I was touched in a recent interview when Mum diplomatically told reporter Ann Wishart, “She always was an innovative dresser,” Snively said, adding she never knew when Devi would show up in her pink ballerina’s tutu. “Devi was pre-Annie Hall. She liked that look.”
Thanks, Mum, for not only understanding, but actually encouraging my crazy whims. It wasn’t ever really about the clothes so much, but what they represented – a way to speak out, break out, be free, find my voice in one more small way. It’s also led me to find kindred spirits. I was hardly alone in my inventive dressing. Back in the 80’s, amid the automatons and pod people who populated my high school and beyond, there also seemed to be more of us who wanted to stand out, not fit in with the status quo. Clothing was one way we could signal to one another, “Hey, I’m one of us, too! Goobah Gabba, Dude!”
It’s also why I now laugh at stores like Hot Topic that mass produces “designer alternative wear.” It sort of defeats the purpose of being “an individual.” Now cliché piercings, stereotypical facial hair and pretentious tattoos are as ubiquitous as Guess Jeans and Forenza sweaters once were among the preppie “in crowd” of the John Hughes era. Hot Topic’s like the new Gap. What message does shopping there send? “Hey, I don’t need no freakin’ imagination to be hip and edgy - I’ve got a mall and a credit card?”
I’m glad my generation values a sense of humor, a passion for creativity and things like art movements and music that still bring such a large group of us together . I hope the generations following us have their own equivalent and perhaps I’m just blind to it being an outsider and all.
But no matter the case, Gen-X continues to rock on – so Fellow Gen-X-ers, I salute you (with an actual lighter as opposed to the cell phones many of you held up before last night’s encore – Really? What was that, Folks? Irony, I hope?) – Regardless, thanks for “keeping it mostly real (and always fun!)”
Incidentally, both English Beat and Squeeze were PHENOMENAL such amazing musicians and performers in general. Go see them in concert if you get the chance. It’s a brilliant show!