(Picture courtesy Style.com)
So says Style.com:
The eighties—the decade that fashion won’t forget. Marc Jacobs led the latest revival with an unapologetic dose of New York nightclub nostalgia (metallic leather and acid-wash jeans, anyone?). Antonio Berardi and Gucci’s Frida Giannini also went after-hours glam via crystal-studded minidresses and sharkskin suits, respectively. And leave it to Donatella Versace to put a gloss on the era with the season’s most irresistibly sexy party dresses.
Why am I bounding with delight at the prospect of walking out with the equivalent of a footballers shoulder guards on either shoulder? Because this was fashion when I was young. And a teen. And how. Padded shoulders gave my hourglass figure some definition, from the sand settled at the bottom bit it was without. Acid washed jeans ensured my mother spent many hours screaming that she was damned if she was going to allow me to step out looking like I’d dressed out of a trash can. Sweaters that slipped off one shoulder. Scarves in my hair. Lace. Tops in white and black lace. Made immortal by Madonna. Metallics were de rigeur for socials (remember those? Little parties organised by the alpha males in college meant for zeroing in on potential juniors. Today’s socials are scary with the drugs doing the rounds. Our height of scandal was guzzling down a quick beer with the boys.). And the Aashiqui bow! Anyone remember that? It was the height of coolth, with even the middleaged train catching aunties sporting them on their short cropped hair.
Am running off to the stores now. Metallic leather in pewter is what I need. And yes. I gotta get the hair to levels of volume that would need its own runway to perfect the look.