Dress Me In the Fashion of the 1980's

What draws us to the bizarro fashions of the '80s, my friends? How is it that, twenty some years later, we are still entranced by the too-big hair, the massively overdone shoulderpads, the unapologetically garish eyeshadow?

There's just something about eighties decadence, sartorially and beyond, that we can't get enough of in our economically depressed and stylistically repressed times.

Partyin' like it's 1980-something. (Posed for satirical purposes. Duh.)

That's right, repressed. Challenge: can you think of something over-the-top and innovative that has come out of the last decade of fashion? Nope? Even idiosyncratic fashionistas like Nicki Minaj and Lady Gaga are just recycling latter-day styles. (And I don't count monster shoes or heel-less shoes, 'cause they haven't become a must-have item of the hoi-polloi).

So, back to the time machine. In the '80s, there was simply far too much going on. Everything was in excess: patterns and colors, the size of hair and jewelry, the amount of coke at parties. People didn't know which drug to hang their hat on.

And do we miss it? Heck yeah! We remember this decade of excess every time we slip into something more kitsch than comfortable. Here, from NAM, a magenta Alfred Nipon dress with a floral pattern, decorative buttons, and sleeves so puffed that they could probably be spotted by telescope.

Now, I'm sure you're pondering the great and timeless question of the purpose of shoulderpads. Are they a frivolous detail, a power symbol, or a figure-shaping strategy? Did businesswomen of the '80s feel empowered by dressing in suits with extra shoulder padding? Or was extra shoulder girth meant to call attention to a waistline made tiny by comparison?

That's for you to decide, dear reader.

Meanwhile, as a take-away message, I'd like to remind all the kids in the reading audience that even bloggers get hungry, and when they do, they always eat their fruits and veggies, and furthermore, they never smoke or drink or take pills, except when prescribed by a doctor.

You can always trust a lady in a blue blazer, especially when it's a blue rayon Nouveaux blazer with mother-of-pearl buttons, a thrifted hand-me-down from Goodwill.