I adore the ’80s. There, I said it! My fondness for that decade is something only true children of the time can truly grasp. Honestly, I feel a bit smug when those flannel-clad ’90s kids boast about their grunge music or when a Millennial raves about the wonders of auto-tune.
The ’80s were something special—a time when life felt like a John Hughes film, and awkwardness was celebrated. Everything was extreme, from the music to my shoulder pads. It was like one gigantic synthesizer party.
But my love for the ’80s goes deeper than nostalgia. I was a teenager then, and let’s face it, teens are inherently foolish. We wore ridiculous outfits and communicated in one-word sentences, convinced we were the masters of style. Little did we know that two decades down the line, we’d look back at our fashion choices and cringe. The beauty of being a teen in the ’80s, though, was that we could act foolishly without the permanence of social media. Thank goodness for that—or someone might still remember my most embarrassing moments.
One of my most cherished memories? Writing “Mrs. Ryan Parker” on my binder endlessly. After my early crush on Andy Gibb, I transitioned to my dream guy from Sixteen Candles, Ryan Parker. I practiced my future signature as if we were destined to be together—better than getting my towels monogrammed!
Step aerobics was another highlight. Until my knees started to sound like the Tin Man, I loved stepping in neon Lycra. Sure, it was one of the most embarrassing workouts—right up there with the ThighMaster (which I tried too).
My bedroom walls were a shrine to the supermodels from George Michael’s videos. I plastered photos of Cindy, Christy, Naomi, and Linda, and when I thought no one was watching, I’d practice my own supermodel strut. Unfortunately, my runway often turned into a tumble across the shag carpet.
Let’s not forget the infamous double polo shirts! I was definitely one of those kids sporting two polos with the collars popped. My high school nickname? “Double Polo,” of course. I was determined to get the collar coordination just right.
During my preppy phase, everything had to be pink and gray. It was adorable at first but soon became tiresome—just ask my mom, who had to help me dye pennies gray to match my pink penny loafers.
I owned so much Esprit clothing that I practically looked like an employee. My mom would have appreciated a discount on all those identical sweatshirts that proudly proclaimed “ESPRIT.”
I eagerly embraced fashion trends like leg warmers and moon boots, even though growing up in California meant they were totally unnecessary. Sure, I was sweating, but at least I was stylish!
And then there was my hair. I went through a phase that can best be described as “Shirley Temple on Red Bull,” thanks to my first perm. The smell alone from that perm should’ve raised red flags!
Dreaming of being one of Sting’s backup singers, I was front and center at his solo concert in my town. I fell for his synchronized singers instead of him, and from then on, I practiced my backup moves in front of the mirror, imagining a future where I could major in backup singing—if only I could carry a tune!
Shoulder pads, sweater dresses, and increasingly ridiculous plastic jewelry made up my wardrobe. While ’80s fashion was often flammable and made from synthetic materials, it certainly had its charm. After all, no other generation rocked shoulder pads thicker than pillows and sweater dresses quite like we did. But if you’ve ever experienced a shoulder pad malfunction, you know how disastrous that can be!
So, while the kids of the ’90s belt out Nirvana lyrics and Millennials hail Taylor Swift as a genius, we ’80s kids know we truly had the best of all worlds. We could embrace our silliness without the constant reminder of how goofy we looked in our moon boots and shoulder pads. Respect!
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In summary, the ’80s were a whirlwind of fashion faux pas, musical dreams, and youthful exuberance. From practicing signatures for imaginary marriages to embracing trends that made us sweat, we lived in a time where being silly was completely acceptable—without the fear of social media reminders.