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I am typing this with orange fingernails and puffed-up hair, leftovers from my trip back in time. Last night friends and I traveled trough the years and landed in an eighties themed prom-night and a midnight viewing of Pretty in Pink.

A true child of the eighties, just twelve when the film came out, I am a big fan of John Hughes and his films have probably helped form a lot of my worldviews in general and idea about love in specific. My all time favourite is The Breakfast Club, a big crush on Judd nelson was a given, but I think it was the music and fashion that had a long lasting impact. And while I still love the music, the fashion just leaves me amazed at the collection of bad tastes the eighties managed to assemble.

So last night I searched for my inner Cindy Lauper and Madonna (the good one of the eighties) and got all dressed up. A big scarf tied up into my curls, an array of long pears and necklaces dangling around my neck, a stripy fingerless glove (of course just the one) bangles jingling on the other wrist, leggings and a pair of green converse sneakers adorning feet.

The evening was perfect with all guests looking worse then the last, Dallas and Denver inspired puff-sleeve dresses competing for who was the biggest Joan Collins look alike, power shoulder-pads forcing people to enter doors sideways and lots of puffed up hair, freaky colours and polyester perfecting the eighties allusion. And yes there were balloons, a prom king and queen and even some grotesquely coloured spiked punch.

We danced, laughed and suffered along with Andie, cheered Duckie and booed Steff. But sadly it was time to leave the eighties behind and return to the now but since I can’t quite give up those happy days, brilliant tunes and ugly fashion. I have decided to watch Girls Want To Have Fun this afternoon,  a large cup of tea and some chocolate at hand to watch Sarah Jessica Parker chase her dream and dance.

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