Fashion and music are the same, because music express its period too. – Karl Lagerfeld
I’m a child of the eighties. The eighties in Los Angeles. A Valley Girl through and through. So it makes perfect sense to me why women, myself included, are stacking bracelets and watches the way we do – it’s like jelly bracelets and Swatch watches and friendship bracelets all grown up. Like, totally.
Lately, as I pass storefront displays, they all seem to be flashbacks to what I call Graceland Days. I was eight years old when Paul Simon’s Graceland was released and more than once I’ve written about how many memories are tied to the songs on that well-worn
cassette CD mp3.
I’m seeing racks of clothes in neons a la the Body Glove bathing suit I so loved, floral prints like the silk Esprit shirt I wore with everything from hot pink satin pants to denim shorts – all I need is a purple splatter painted baseball cap like the one I had from Fred Segal, and I can relive the seriously scary clash of color and pattern that was the mid-eighties.
They say if you wore a trend the first time around, you should pass when it makes a return. I don’t care what “they” say. As I walked out of the Gap last week with a pair of neon pink ballet flats, I was a happy woman. When I tried them on, I actually snapped an Instagram and posted “You can take the girl out of the 80s, but you can’t take the 80s out of the girl.”
Those colors and patterns are deeply embedded in my soul, forever intertwined with the scent of night blooming jasmine and the hum of Paul Simon’s “Diamonds on the Soles of Her Shoes.”