There’s a lot of misplaced nostalgia for the 80s. Some elements were fantastic but, like any decade, there was a lot of shite. Do you who were there really miss any of the following?
Flaming drinks and the inevitable droplet shaped facial scabs.
Winged collars for black tie.
Young women’s hair sculpted into the shape of the male glans. Misogynist homosexual hairdressers chortled as they were paid to create a sea of bobbing knobs.
Any film with “Any Which Way” in the title.
Bob Hawke’s hair.
Bob Hawke.
Body shirts.
Nancy fucken Reagan.
The mere thought of Reagan fucking Nancy.
Taffeta gowns.
Oaked chipped chardonnay.
The beer strike.
Ian Chappell (a shite feature of any decade).
Smokey, the band.
Smokey the Bear.
Smokey and the Bandit.
Indeed, any 80s film starring Burt Reynolds.
Joh Bjelke Petersen. What a c**t!
That girl Deborah with the mind boggling over bite. Yikes.
So what’s the point of this? It’s a reminder that it’s what’s going on now that matters. Go forward. Move ahead. Try to detect it. It’s not too late.
Nostalgia sucks (as The Scotsman says) and seeking comfort in it is unwise because it's susceptible to the frailty of memory. Hell, it's quite possible half the things listed occurred in the 70s.
Nostalgia should be reserved for quiet nights at home in the company of a few old friends, a bottle of Sambuca and a lighter.
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