Wednesday, June 07, 2006

Club Kid

I've lived many incarnations throughout my years on this planet. I've been a prep, a jock, and a punk. I've been goth, urban, and even country. I've been Gap, Cignal, and Structure. I've been Timberlands, Sebagoes, and Keds. Perhaps I will write about each of these one day.

But the period of my life that has come to mind recently was my time spent as a Club Kid. It was 1988.

{initiate dream sequence and blurry wavy picture}

I was 22 and living in DC for the first time, recently single following the breakup with Ex#1. We were 21 and 22, and living together at the time (and yes, I am shaking my head just thinking about it). I needed to spend as much time out of the house (or at least away from him) as possible. So I struck up a friendship with a co-worker whose name was Barbie (I know I couldn't believe that I would ever befriend anyone with that name, but there she was). Barbie was half Caucasion/half Korean. She was just beautiful, and the most stylish chick I had ever met. I think she was perhaps a year older than I, but I don't think I ever really knew Barbie's age.

She adopted me into her clan and we proceeded to spend every night out dancing until all hours. We had a circuit: Wednesdays at Dakota, Thursdays at Tracks, Fridays at The Vault, Saturdays at Tracks, Sundays back at Dakota, and Mondays at The Bank (Tuesday night was my night off to do laundry and stuff). We'd go out around 11pm or so and crawl home around 4 or 5am. The difference between club kids now and club kids then is that back then we weren't doing drugs. We spent all our money on outfits.

In the late 80's, Club Kids didn't wear tee shirts and cargo pants - we dressed up to go out. We wore black and white combinations: black silk slacks, white rayon shirts, pins, shoulder pads, bolo ties, eyeliner, and lots of hair product. We might drink one bottled water throughout the entire course of the evening. And we danced all night long with the same people as the night before.

{end dream sequence}

This era re-emerged in my memory recently when I was surfing the net for new music. I found an album (are they still called that?) by Rick Astley called Portrait. For kicks, I downloaded the album, which - after a few plays - I actually like alot. But Rick's voice immediately takes me back to the clubs, hearing songs like "She Wants To Dance With Me" and "Never Gonna Give You Up".

They say youth is wasted on the young. God, that's so true, isn't it? But thanks to my iPod, and my journals, I can relive mine over and over again (only this time, without the eyeliner and shoulder pads).