One important area of change as we traversed innocently into the 1980’s, like the bit in Wizard of Oz where it moves into full blaring technicolour, was in fashion. I discovered I had a reflection and started utilising the mirror, which lead to me falling down the stairs on a few occasions since in our house there was a full length mirror at the top. Step back to get a good look and woah away I went! My family would regularly see me tumbling down the stairs past the sitting room and say “There she goes again”….fortunately I was pretty nimble and got straight back up to carry on with my day. Perhaps the hairspray acted as a kind of guard against serious injury. Hairspray was so popular and widely used in the 80’s that it ate a massive great hole in the ozone layer. This didn’t stop us from spraying whole cans of Insette on our barnets after furious scrunch drying to create one solid lump of congealed hair that would remain in tact through high winds, rain or hail. All manner of hairstyles abounded, as we went from straight long brown locks to blonde tips, lopsided dos, flicks, layers, mullets (business at the front, party at the back) feather-cuts, highlights, lowlights, bobs and perms armed with crimpers, tongs, diffusers, curlers, scrunchies, mousse, gel etc. No two hairstyles were exactly the same and for me no two were the same from one week to the next. Encouraged by my mam I ventured into the world of bleaching and tipping caps, undeterred by comments such as “urgh has a bird shit on ya heed?, simply adding more bleach and throwing in a light perm for good measure. At one point smoke was coming from the top of my head, my hair went green and I even tried bleaching my eyebrows. They grew back in striped which was quite funny. I bought Shaders and Toners called Champagne Gold and Bronze Glow. The hairstyle journey reflected the changing times and outwardly our self-confidence and power grew in direct proportion with the size and impermeable structure of our hair, demonstrated ably by Lady Di, Joan Collins, Carol Decker, Margaret Thatcher. Feminist activism from the 60’s and 70’s and post-war social mobility took effect, creating an environment in which girls from ex-mining communities like Bedlington were increasingly encouraged to study physics, chemistry and maths (as well as typing, textiles and domestic science) and would be much more likely to have a career and a chance to go to college than the previous generation.
Although the girls and boys at West Sleekburn Middle school were segregated at playtime there was a degree of flirtation across the field that separated them. Some of the more physically developed girls began to sense a power over others and took great pleasure in singing “Like A Virgin” by Madonna (which I disliked at the time for its overt sexuality and was quite prudish about! I was also perturbed by games like Postman’s Knock at parties in case anyone tried to kiss me, though funnily enough no-one did - this may or may not have been related to the smoking green hair and striped eyebrows). There were stirrings of a bizarre on-off attraction and interest across the sexes with little notes sometimes passed around or left in desks by the more precocious. Skirts would get rolled up at the waistband, worn with over-the-knee socks. We invented a game which we played at break time that somewhat resembled a TV game show and involved singing the catchphrase “Show your sexy body Lorraine” … the eponymous host would then swing her hips and parade along the veranda like a deranged supermodel. I got told off by Mrs Thompson when I was a fourth year prefect for wearing the latest fashionable “fall-down” socks that literally looked like they were falling down and ruched at the shin. She made me pull them up and ever since I’ve had a fairly bolshy attitude towards dress-code rules made up by authoritarian types. It’s like Kim Jong-un and his acceptable hairstyles, the thin end of the wedge of control.
Music along with fashion continued to be a vital part of our development and sense of identify. There was a disco held at the Top Club in Bedlington for the young folks (in the years before the business ended up sinking literally into the ground) which I went to a few times with my cousin, hair crimped up like Crystal Tips and Alistair and wearing hot red pedal pushers doing the Hucklebuck, stamping to Come On Eileen and po-faced dancing round a bag to Don’t You Want Me Baby. I was generally mainstream in my tastes, with Top of The Pops a highlight of the week followed by the Kids From Fame plus the Top 40 on a Sunday. We even got the chance to be in the Razzmatazz audience at Tyne Tees Studios which was brilliant. Me and my friend shook hands with Midge Ure and saw Bucks Fizz at the top of the stairs whose glorious bouffant blonde hair shone like radiant halos in the television spotlights. It was one of a number of experiences that inspired me to want a creative career in the arts and entertainment. Big hair, big tunes, big dreams .. and right here’s where you start paying.
Comments