words that make me go ewww…

lately I have been watching a bit of MAX on foxtel – they have had 80’s music on in the mornings and I am an unabashed 80’s fan, the music, the fashion, the hair that made everyone look like they’re from texas, slogan tee’s, fluro for day wear not work wear and men wearing whatever they liked, including makeup, but not a metro sexual in sight. no matter how much they now try to reproduce the eighties it just looks like everyone tries too hard and it costs a bomb because it’s the “so hot right now” look. back in the eighties I was inspired by music and film clips – the choose life tee shirts in the wake me up before you go-go clip, anything Madonna wore, Boy George and Robert Smith from The Cure was a huge influence in the late eighties, oh and Billy Idol. when I was 16 I was a bridesmaid at my cousins wedding….it was the 80’s we wore hot pink taffeta dresses with puffy shoulders, white high heels and prior to the big day I sported a fabulous spiral perm. on the day we went to the hairdresser and I asked her not to brush through my curls but she did and then she used the most enormous rollers to give me very big bridesmaid hair that was finished off with one side swept up and held with a comb and a sprig of baby’s breath oh yeah I was rockin that look. anyway the following day I was hoping that if I washed my hair it would spring back to its former spiral glory, it didn’t. so my sista came to my rescue and shortly afterwards I went from sun bleached blond mop top to blue-black billy idol faux hawk. it was an interesting choice given that the area I grew up in was very much sun bleached blonde and not so much try hard gothic so to complete my look I stayed out of the sun and wore a lot of eyeliner and black clothing. I don’t know whether it was an 80’s thing or the fact that I was in my late teens but changing your look was totally acceptable and in my case commented on by others in club toilets….this eighties revival meeting I have been having – on my own – has caused me to forget why I started this post. there are certain words that conjure up images of horror in my mind. one of these words is discharge and while watching MAX I have been the unfortunate viewer of an ad that discusses vaginal discharge. I am not sure if advertising needs to go to such lengths….is nothing private anymore? specifically this ad refers to “that discharge between your period…” and how if you wear these special liners you will feel fresher for longer…or you could change your undies, drink more water and only wear natural fibres…just a thought. but do we really need to hear about it on the telly? not much is sacred these days as companies try to sell their products for many bodily functions and dysfunctions vaginal discharge, thrush, incontinence and erection problems are just a few of the issues you can now solve or live with more comfortably if you believe what the telly says – I am still pissed that the TV I pay for has ads at all, now they are using it for more direct marketing by offering you services if you press the red button, cheeky bastards making money from subscribers and advertisers. this is just one of the things that has bothered me recently and I would say that is due to my time spent sitting in front of the telly feeding Kenzi – I know, I know I should be sitting in a quiet place marvelling at the miracle of childbirth and how amazing it all is, and it IS totally awe-inspiring but once I got over the wow factor it’s now business as usual and consequently this post has taken me over two hours, three nappy changes and four feeds to write. and I made a management decision this morning to prioritize writing barrybadger because I enjoy it…things that got bumped are hanging out the washing and hoovering the tumbleweeds of MrRooben’s hair rolling around the floors.

I can’t finish on that, it’s just wrong. so back to my eighties revival as David Bowie sings Modern Love on my telly and reminds me that back then if you went to a concert and were lucky enough to sit on the flat section close to the stage you had a chance of running to the front once the lights went down. no one stopped you and no one complained that you were standing in front of them because everyone stood up. nowadays if you stand up guaranteed the person behind you will either complain loudly or tap you on the shoulder and ask you to sit down. and you have no chance of getting near the stage without getting taken down by some overly excited security guard. back in the eighties I managed to get up close to Elton John, ZZ Top, Bryan Ferry, Tina Turner and Queen to name a few and the tickets were a fraction of the relative cost today. maybe that explains why I frequently get told to “sit down, I paid good money for these tickets”. I also paid “good” money for my ticket and as a consequence I would like to enjoy myself by moving to the music – otherwise known as dancing – rather than sitting on my arse and applauding golf clap style after each tune. Bon Jovi demanded people stand up as did Lady Gaga but we did get tut tutted from behind when we bounced around to Jay Z when he supported U2. ahhhh the eighties we didn’t have any money, mobile phones or computers but we were pretty happy to make a mixed tape off the radio countdown and drink wine out of a cask. easy days…