The Spandex Privilege

"Have you heard Gene Loves Jezebel?" I said, "Ask me if I care, all I know is Joni Loves Chachi," then I hit him with my chair. So if your honey fancies hippies well here's all you need to know, stay clear of L.A.'s Guns & Roses, take her to a Vandals show" The Vandals from "Long Haired Queer"

It finally dawned on me what it is about the nurse that I find so sexy that my every thought of her features her naked flesh. It's something so primal, so basic, that I have looked right past the somehow obvious answer. She looks like the girls from the 80's hair band videos. Those demi-Goddess creatures in heavy make-up, lace, fishnet, and hair so huge that it took hours of prep time in order fro those dolls to walk out the front door. The Aqua Net bills alone certainly caused many a death metal dollie to leave the scene for good, opting for the flat hair and cargo shorts of the Lilith Faire set. But the nurse, she's all devil signs and Vans sneakers.

There was time tat I too walked around in the swish of parachute pants, with a handkerchief tied to both wrists, matching my Rising Sun Japanese flag sleeveless. I was a freshman, in a new school, running with the "bad" kids seemed live a helluva lot more fun that bangin around with Mods and New Wave kids. It wouldn't be until I changed schools yet again that I would meet Wes and be introduced to punk. But my metal years had some moments, not fashionable, but moments.

Mostly we smoked and listened to metal. The bands were, and still are awesome. Motley Cure was playing "Shout of the Devil", Ozzy was still the Blizzard of Oz and not a cartoon of himself, Iron Maiden had us learning and worshipping Alister Crowley and drawing pictures of Eddie Maiden. It was a great time for eyeliner, spikes, and slutty girls. It was a bad time for big men as the girls all wanted skinny long haired Poison look-a-likes. Though I was not of the "in" type there was a large group of us that kicked around in our apartment as SuperMom was working two jobs at the time. This left hours of unsupervised time for the gang to play Intellivision and smoke pot, pop pills, and try coke for the first time. We, my sister was part of this motley crew (hee hee), would throw raucous parties during school hours. One was even busted by the cops. Though their timing couldn't have been better, since they arrived 10 minutes into the school lunchtime. They did clear the apartment and make everyone go back to school, but they couldn't bust anyone for anything, no one was cutting at the time. It was a a riot.

It was the beginning of MTV and there was the Headbangers Ball. A two hour block set aside to let us watch the good stuff without the interference of Michael Jackson and A-Ha. Yeah, MTV used to play these things called music videos, wild I know, but true. We watched Headbangers Ball like it was the greatest advent since television itself. The videos, filled with busty, lingerie clad vixens armed the cockles of our burgeoning libidos. Some of those digital darlings we knew by name. Like Tawny Kitaen and Bobbi Brown, she of the Cherry Pie video, not he of the beating Whitney Houston. We adorned our walls with babies who were so banging hot that the wore spandex like a second skin. Not everyone should wear the material, it's a privilege, not a right.

It was strangely innocent times for all the drugs, rock-n-roll, and sexual innuendo. At least it was for me. I look back on the metal years as a phase, not my favorite, not my coolest, but one that rounded me out as a musical connoisseur. Without the freshman year I wouldn't appreciate the wondrous duel guitar of Iron Maiden, or the post Black Sabbath Ozzy who was known primarily for pissing on the Alamo and biting the head off a bat. Sure the music was dark, it was rife with Satanistic imagery, it was heavy. That was the point.

Have a phase that you look back on with some fashion regrets? Musical regrets?

Dixie Cup of Love: Tawny.