Journey over to the service was quite light hearted. We travelled over in a family car supplied by the funeral directors, and as it sat 6 my sister in law and my best mate Tom, travelled with us.
The conversation turned to some of the outrageous fashion me and Tom had as youngsters, and believe me, it wouldn't have been pretty, I can remember being thrown out of Oxfam for lowering the tone of the place.
There's me going on about the knitted balaclava I had when I was about 5. Brown it was, mum knitted it and it itched in all the wrong places. Heaven forbid I should have removed it though, god no.
Tom remembered some of the shirts we sported back in the day, and the size of the collars, man they where big, BIG!
He said that it could actually be the case that we where the early pioneers in un-powered flight. Seriously large collars, one slight wind change and you could be a few feet off the ground.
We reminisced about one of the fellas that lived in Sudbury who was very much an early punk rock pioneer, he had it all, glue, zips, more piercings than you could shake a stick at, and tartan trousers.
I mentioned about the fact that I quite enjoyed listening to a bit of punk rock but was a bit of a closet punk, dress sense wise, I wasn't allowed!
I became a new romantic after this time, and remembered one occasion when I came down stairs at home in what could only be described as, well, a frilly shirt, puffy sleeves, and a low neck. I thought I looked wonderful, mum obviously disagreed.
'If you think your going out dressed like that you are sadly mistaken'
The truth is I have no idea where I would have gone had I been allowed to leave the house. Round to a mates looking like a Spandau Ballet reject, I almost definately wouldn't have been allowed in.
We traded tank top tales, and I said that I have photographic proof of just how appalling mine were, I won that round. The thought of walking around with the brown home knitted balaclava, home knitted tank top and the winged collared shirt on I'm surprised I got through my youth.
The photo bellow shows the full ensemble minus the balaclava, shame! But, if you look really close you can see the faraway, terrified look in my eyes that was ingrained on my psyche, put there by the forced wearing of it in the past. Oh the trauma.
1 comment:
Let's be honest, the collars just balanced out your ears!! ;o) Just kidding, bruv.
Wish I could have been there with you today. You should've worn your balaclava today, mum would've liked that.
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