It could simply be that Saucy found herself delusional, drugged up on NeoCitran today, but during the long afternoon on the sofa, she curled up with her collection of old Seventeen magazines. She made mental note: don't let Loopy throw out a single one of her issues, either. They are priceless. As she approaches her *cough* 42nd birthday, Saucy feels nostalgic for the glory days...
Wasn't the best part of the issue the mini-mag found in the middle? Saucy turned to it first. It usually had articles featuring "real teens" and this seemed the pinnacle of success at the time... check out the article above and Saucy will reveal what she did this afternoon: she Googled these people to find out where they are now, and two of them were very easy to find. They grew up to be smart, educated women. Saucy grew up to still be reading about them on the sofa.
Growing up in Canada, Seventeen magazine was Saucy's link to what she thought was civilization, in the form of the JC Penny catalogue. Saucy could only imagining sashaying into such a fancy place, a treasure trove of youthful fashion. Just look at that corduroy skirt. Saucy blames Seventeen magazine for her fascination with all sorts of goodies that she can't readily buy at home, and even with the advent of internet shopping one cannot imagine the thrill that Saucy feels when she hits a CVS or a Walgreens south of the border... it just seems so... exotic.
The Judy Blume Diary would surely have appealed to teenage Saucy... Judy Blume was one of her early literary heroes, after Laura Ingalls Wilder, before Jane Austen. Don't laugh. You were there, too.
Oh, but the advertisements! The makeup. Saucy wheeled herself to Pinder's Drug Store with her babysitting money and splurged on Maybelline Brush/Blush. The tiny acrylic-haired brush with its rectangular shape ensured perfect, circular, clown-like application on the "apple" of her youthful cheeks.
Did you sport a Swatch watch? Saucy still has hers. She whipped it out for Loopy to wear on 80's day and it still ticked. Swatch must be a good company, because guess what else still works?
The scratch n'sniff insert of the April 1982 issue of Seventeen still smells like granita di frutta. Saucy scratched today, she sniffed, her headache got a little worse so she reached for the Tylenol. So you see, the more things change, the more they stay the same.
Because Saucy remembers tastes and smells very well. She still picks up Bonne Bell Lip-Smackers in Bubblegum and Dr. Pepper flavours when she sees them at the Dollarama. They don't seem as trendy these days but one swipe of the stick across her lips and Saucy is instantly swept back to 1983, crushing on the nerdy Cooper Burnell who wore Saskatoon Golf and Country Club golf shirts every single day and said alluring things like, "what'cha lookin' at, Cha-Cha?" and "what the hell stinks like bubblegum?".
Can you remember the smell of your favourite shampoo? You know, the one that ensured the right amount of pouf, the perfect level of crustiness, the snag of your wide-tooth comb?
Or the smell of your first fragrance, the one your mother slipped in your box of Christmas loot? The Fan spent all year procuring shampoos, deodorants, Lip-Smackers and other essentials for daily living. It was better than a stocking, it was a little Walgreens in a box. Saucy waited breathlessly for it all year long.
Or the tangy, zesty smell of tiny pores and skin so clean it stung? Did this stuff even work? Saucy was compelled to buy it anyway. It promised to help her snag Cooper Burnell. He would take one look at her super-shiny reddened complexion and inhale the toxic fumes lingering with the waxy odor of bubblegum - and it would be love.
Hair was so important in the 80's. Big hair, lots of it. Hair with natural sun-kissed highlights, gotten in one afternoon of cheerleading practice in the head cheerleader Barb Girling's backyard. Team members passed around the bottle, ensuring that not only would they have uniform moves, they had identical brassy streaks and damage.
... but all bad hair days were instantly tamed with the use of a set of hot, steaming rollers! Saucy makes yet another confession: she got up so early every morning to do her hair, she was awake, shampooed, blown out and wrestling with two sets of hot rollers before Good Morning America even hit the airwaves. She watched the PTL Club on her tiny black and white bedroom television (heck, it was the only thing on at five a.m.) and this served her well not just because she had a fantastic 'do in high school, but when Jim and Tammy Bakker fell from grace later in the 80's, Saucy had done the research to quickly turnaround a top-notch Tammy Faye impersonation, running mascara and all. She entertained many a frat party with it.
If her telly had a fuzzy image, she popped a cassette into her pink GE Sidestep. These days she carries a pink iPod with her, but her music was portable even back then...
... even if it was Wham!, Duran Duran, Joe Jackson, or:
... and here is the last startling revelation about Saucy and her Seventeen magazines: she lurrved her some cassette tapes for one penny. She ordered a new club membership every six months or so.
But how, you may ask yourself, as you think back and remember that this offer was limited to one per household, once in a lifetime? Ah, Saucy found herself the loophole. You will remember that members received their first eleven selections for one cent, with the commitment to purchase four more tapes at the scandalously high regular club prices... but at the time of enrollment, members could purchase the first of their four-tape commitment for $2.99?
The first time Saucy placed her magical order with the Columbia Record and Tape Club, she received her introductory shipment, but with one little catch: the first eleven tapes were shortchanged and they sent only ten. She was billed for her "first" tape at $2.99. They still sent eleven tapes but they charged full price for one of them! Not one to be duped, Saucy photocopied the letter from the club, kept it, and promptly (and repeatedly) never ordered the remaining three full-price tapes.
The letters came demanding that Saucy fulfill her obligation to the club. Saucy sat down at her electric typewriter and knocked out the inevitable retort explaining to the Columbia Record and Tape Club that since they had not fulfilled their contractual obligation to send all eleven tapes for a penny, then she was not obliged to fill her contractual obligation to purchase further tapes. Oh Dear Reader, the days before computers! Saucy fired these typewritten, teenage-legal-eze letters off like clockwork every six months or so, citing the precedent that they had let her out of her contract for the same reason previously... and every time, she was released from her contract, promptly visited the magazine rack at 7-11, grabbed a highlighter, and picked her new eleven... uh, ten, tapes for a penny.
And now that Saucy had made these scandalous revelations on her blog, Dear Reader, rest assured that she will always have the fondest memory of the glory days, Lip-Smackers, and yes, even Cooper Burnell. Off to Google him, now!