While most children in the ’80s reveled in bright colors, pastel cardigans, and penny loafers, I, a proudly unconventional individual, gravitated towards a wardrobe dominated by black. Captivated by the likes of Bela Lugosi and Peter Murphy, I shunned the upbeat pop music and cheerleader cliques that surrounded me. My introspective nature demanded music with depth and moments of solitude where I could escape the bemused gazes of my classmates.
Fast forward over twenty-five years, and I find myself still embracing my quirks. The only real difference is that as an adult, I now have the freedom to curate my own closet. Thus, I unabashedly don all black attire and maintain my fascination with vampires, reminiscent of my high school days. Just recently, I was swept up in the Twilight phenomenon alongside countless teens, until I saw the films—what a disappointment! The preppy vampires portrayed bore no resemblance to the dark and brooding imagery I had conjured from the books.
Reflecting on iconic ’80s films, there are certain scenes that still stir feelings of discontent—particularly in The Breakfast Club and Pretty in Pink. For those who shared the dark wave experience of that era, my grievances need no introduction. But for those who rooted for the popular crowd, let me clarify: Claire transformed Allison—a beautifully introverted soul clad in black—into the quintessential girl next door, while Andie made the bewildering choice of Blane over Duckie. That decision still elicits an involuntary head shake from me.
This lingering annoyance is partly why I often miss out on the numerous ’80s theme parties. I know those traditional gatherings are filled with neon colors, banana clips, and hits like “Safety Dance,” which bear little relation to my own ’80s experience. Much like the parties of that time, I still have no desire to attend.
It’s not that I don’t wish to reminisce; I do so every day as I gaze at the framed poster of The Cure on my wall. However, the atmosphere can be awkward, even for the DJ, who might hesitate to accommodate my request for a song by The Sisters of Mercy—definitely not on his ’80s Dance Party playlist. Even if he could play my favorite tracks, he likely fears a crowd reaction akin to witnessing Debbie Gibson cover “This Corrosion.”
Regarding music, I can’t help but chuckle when people attempt to connect with me by claiming they enjoy The Cure. While their efforts are sweet, I’m rarely convinced unless I see them belting out “Torture” on karaoke night rather than “Friday I’m in Love.” Until that moment, their claims remain as amusing to me now as they were back then, much like those who keep mixing up Siouxsie and the Banshees’ name.
It’s not that I’m stuck in the past; for me, the gothic essence of the ’80s embodies a feeling that has persisted through the years. Clearly, I’m not alone in this sentiment; otherwise, we wouldn’t see actors like Winona Ryder, Helena Bonham Carter, and Johnny Depp—who will always be etched in my memory as Edward Scissorhands—thriving in roles that celebrate the dark and mysterious.
In truth, I owe a great deal of my ongoing ’80s gothic appreciation to Tim Burton, my equivalent of John Hughes. Without his vision and platforms like Hot Topic, I might still feel as isolated as Lydia Deets. Thankfully, Burton has shown me I’m not so unique; there are many others like me, all grown up yet unchanged, eagerly anticipating his latest dark creations.
Secretly, I take pleasure in viewing his films as a celebration of those like me, serving as a medium for an undead era known as the ’80s—the strange and unusual sentiment that continues to influence my wardrobe today. I genuinely hope this feeling never fades.
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Summary
The author reminisces about being an outcast in the ’80s, preferring a gothic aesthetic and music with depth over mainstream trends. Despite the years passing, they remain true to their unique style and interests, illustrating how the feelings and experiences of that decade continue to resonate with them today.