If you weren’t a child in the eighties, you won’t understand….
- Being in love with every member of the Brat Pack. Beautiful Rob Lowe. Moody Judd Nelson. Adorable Emilio Estevez. A brat for every season.
- Feeling like Ghostbusters was the most important film of your life. Until Back to the Future and Marty McFly skateboarding on the back of a truck to The Power of Love.
- Seeing Madonna on TOTP for the first time performing Like a Virgin in a long pink wig. The crucifixes. The confidence. The first stirrings of feminism summoned by this provocative, sexual, challenging goddess. The collective cuteness of Curiosity Killed the Cat. Singing along to Relax by Frankie Goes to Hollywood and wondering why your mother switched off the radio.
- The crush you had on Face from the A Team. Don’t you STILL love it when a plan comes together? Scott, Charlene and the eternal mystery of how they managed to snog at the altar without Charlene’s frosted lipstick coming off all over Scott’s face. Dogtanian, because Muskahounds are always ready. Why and how we never spotted that Dallas, Dynasty and the Colbys were full-blown comedies. And why did your parents laugh every time you suggested they buy a talking car like KITT in Knightrider?
- Cabbage Patch Dolls. Chicaboos. Strawberry Shortcake. Nothing gave you status like owning one of these VERY IMPORTANT toys. Until you moved onto sticker books.
- Puffball skirts and stripy tights. Braces that hung down for no reason. All worn with DMs. Or Pixie boots. Like we’d just wandered out of a French circus for underage weirdos.
- A diet of Wham bars and Cherry Coke. If anyone came out of the eighties with a full set of teeth, they deserve a present.
- The thrill and amazingness of Band Aid. The even bigger thrill and amazingness of Live Aid. Loving being shouted at by Bob Geldof. DELIGHTED when he swore.