October 1, 2007
Dancing With The Stars, Karaoke With The Knitters
There was quite a lively discussion last week about the legwarmer issue, clearly those of us who lived through the most awkward part of the eighties fall into one of two camps: "permanently scarred by the fashion" or "goofily nostalgic."
I would say I am mostly permanently scarred, but on the legwarmer issue (and the side-ponytail, which I will one day bring back! yes I will!) I am goofily nostalgic.
I noticed that I was soft on legwarmers while watching Dancing With The Stars, a show I have only seen in snippets while visiting my grandmother, but for some reason this year I decided to Tivo it and I absurdly love this show. I really love the little vignette they edit together showing the stars working out and learning the dances -- and oh, the legwarmers! I was also incredibly happy to see little Cheetah Girl Sabrina Ryan out there chachachaing her booty off, even though some people -- PEOPLE WHO SHALL REMAIN UNNAMED -- maybe cried at that scene during the first Cheetah Girls movie where Toto the dog gets trapped underground even though it's a Disney movie and you know it will have a happy ending.
But that definitely did NOT happen to me, because boy would that be embarrassing.
Anyway, it was so happy-making for me seeing all those legwarmers that I immediately called my mom (who is a fan of the show) and told her I was going to knit her some legwarmers so she could wear them while watching Dancing With The Stars. I won't repeat what she said to me, let's just say she falls into the "scarred by the eighties" camp and leave it at that, shall we?
But if I had thin legs I would SO be wearing legwarmers this year. I will admit I never lost my secret love of them from junior high when I so desperately wanted to be the ballet dancer in that poster -- remember THE ballet poster? It just showed the grubby, dancing-for-my-life feet of a ballet girl with torn tights and slouchy legwarmers and beat-up-from-passion-of-dancing toe shoes, all ripped and dirty. I had that poster on my wall and stared at it every night, wishing that instead of my compact, sturdy cheerleader physique I had a lithe, graceful ballet dancer's body.
One year in what can only be described as a fit of insanity brought on by sniffing too much of the plastic-infused air inside RAVE at the mall, I decided I wanted my birthday party to have a theme. I came up with this theme entirely for the purpose of showing off my new red legwarmers.
Apparently the theme for my party was "Wear Red And Black And Look Ugly" and it appears the party was held in the backyard in our country of Tragicstan, in the city named Fashionless:
Yes, that's me front and center in my braces, she-mullet and BIG RED BIRTHDAY LEGWARMERS that I wore over pantyhose in Louisiana, in summer. What is most awe-inspiring about this photo is that I actually thought I was THE COOLEST THING EVER and I was so proud of my coolness, I was sure that any any minute Adam Ant would come and marry me and take me out of the hellish world of Laura Ashley dresses and we'd live forever in a legwarmer, pirate-shirted heaven.
I am so happy the internet was invented so I can share my private pain with so many.
- - -
On Saturday night I left my house as a trial run for all the leaving-my-houseness that will happen soon and attended lovely Kendra's birthday party and meet all sorts of new people who I drunkenly photographed and garbled nonsense at, which did not really make me feel more at ease about ever going into public again but hey, I figure it's good to go to a club at least once every three years so that I remember what they at least look like. Yes? Nonetheless, even with the annoying drunken photog, a good time was had by all.
Happy birthday, Kendra!
Posted by laurie at October 1, 2007 5:59 AM