The other night, I found myself sitting in a concert hall with a thousand other people having an absolutely A+ time at one of the few North American dates on the farewell tour for Euro pop icons a-ha. Yes, a-ha. No matter that I'm not old enough to have fully appreciated their short-lived American heyday (although they've never ceased to be a presence on the other side of the Atlantic) in the mid-80s. I learned about them via the Pop-up Video treatment ( I'm sure there are even readers who are too young to appreciate that show) of "Take on Me" and more seriously, their concert participation in Live 8.
As I sang along with "The Living Daylights" and "The Sun Always Shines on TV," I started thinking about nostalgia. Specifically, Gen Y's relationship to nostalgia. I can't be the only one to see that the proximity of what counts as bygone days has been increasing dramatically in recent years.
It's almost Halloween, which means I'll be a little anxious trying to figure out what the hell to dress as this year, as I do every year. Yet, were I to go to a Halloween costume store and try to find something, I wouldn't really be able to find anything that exciting. Scary, sure. But not in a Halloween scary way. I'd find a lot of ridiculous outfits of all kinds that require garter belts, knee-high boots and close-to-nothing tops but that are somehow "different characters". Yes, it's true that the contention for Halloween costumes for ladies is not a new beef: it's been quite awhile since "sexy" Halloween costumes have been all the rage. But when did Spongebob become sexy? Is Pocahottie seriously a choice? And Strawberry Shortcake in thigh-highs? This week's Douchebag Decree is dedicated to Spirit Halloween Store because if you don't want to bear your bosom in the name of dress up fun, well sister, you're shit out of luck.