The other day I was walking through an upscale department store in trendy Union Square, really I was there to use the facilities. They have nice bathrooms, especially in the women’s couture section. I know that sounds weird for some of you, but for us urbanites, who are for the most part pedestrians, knowing where the killer powder rooms are is essential to city living.
So I am cruising up to the fancy women’s section and I depart from my pee route shortly to look at those shoes that I can salivate about but can never afford. Among, the Chu's, and Manolos, I saw something that I never thought I would see again in my entire life. There they were, in the Marc Jacobs section, Jelly Shoes. Not only were they Jelly shoes, they were Jelly shoes that started at $100 a pop. I kid you not. I was freaked. I mean first, they are made of PVC, second THEY ARE JELLY SHOES. WHY THE FUCK ARE THEY BACK?
Every woman my age remembers when she got her first pair. I remember it very vividly. I really wanted a pair, I was like 13 and my parents would not buy them for me. I was so pissed. They said that they had no support and they were bad for my feet. I did not listen to any of that, all the girls had them, and I wanted them. They were so freaking cool. I finally conned my grandmother (Gaga) into buying them for me. She understood that fashion was important. I wore them a couple of times, and I noticed a few things, they would cut you, and your feet got sweatier and dirtier than with any other shoe. Also, god forbid if you had to walk a long time, they had no support. My pragmatic parents were right.
Apparently, a lot of pragmatic parents were right because, Jelly shoes were soon banned at my school. I mean it was a good thing, Columbia South Carolina is built on a swamp, and Heathwood Hall Episcopal School was literally on reclaimed swampland, it was hot and every time it rained there were puddles that resembled small lakes. Jelly shoes were stupid apparel to wear in such conditions. On top of which, several girls, had Jelly related injuries, which were usually bad falls or twisted or sprained ankles.
Thus Jellies died as a fashion in our world. I would still wear mine to the pool. But I soon acquired a new pair of Greek sandals; made of leather, that resembled, the ones that Madonna wore in the borderline video. They were really cool.
In general I am uneasy with all of this Early Eighties fashion coming back in style. I have to say that I hate it. There are certain looks that are in right now that literally make me wince. It’s complicated; I think it’s not just, that I don’t like the lines, or the material. It is defiantly more than that I think that it brings out the insecurity that I felt at that time.
When, I hit the time, that I cared about fashion (around thirteen), early eighties fashion was in full swing. I was in seventh grade; I had just started a new school. Heathwood was an exclusive private school; it was where most of Columbia's 'Old Money’ families sent their kids. My parents, who were middle class and both had to work, and sacrificed to send my brothers and I there. It was definitely a better education than I was getting at my old school, but there were some difficulties.
I was the new kid and I was by no means poor, but did not have the money that these other kids had. I was made fun of by the other thirteen-year-old girls because my clothes weren’t designer. It seems to trivial, when I think back, but at the time, I was devastated. I hated seventh grade. I mean it was a massive effort to get up every day and endure the hellishness of that year. Every day I would wake up and wonder what about me this gang of girls would make fun of that day. It was always about what ever I was wearing. But, it was really about, the fact that I was new, I was sort of different and they could jump on that. That’s what happens when you are that age. It was terrible.
I look back at that and I see that all of us, even the girls that made fun of me were all bundles of insecurity. My Parents would tell me that at the time. But somehow at the time that was sort of cold comfort.
At that time, clothes represented, this magic way of fitting in and thats what we all wanted. If you fit in, then you could get by without ridicule. Which is in essence what every seventh grader wants. If you were different, and you could not help your difference, then you were essentially screwed. As I look back at it as an adult, and as someone who has taught that age group, I know you do everything possible to fight that instinct in kids. The pressure to “fit in” is so much stronger than any of the other things in kids lives. There is so much more going on. For so many reasons, that time in a kids life is when, you are at risk of loosing them to "fitting in". You can loose them for several years if not for ever. Its scary. Asking kids to be different and proud of their difference is a asking them to something that is massively brave.
I survived seventh grade, with a few bruises, and soon learn to celebrate the way that I was different, and actually it was way cooler. I did not want to be like them.
At the end of that year, my grandmother actually bought me an ESPRIT outfit at Belk’s that out fit did save my life in some ways, or at least stopped the teasing. It was also about that time that I stopped caring as much what many of these girls were teasing me about as well. I was also no longer new, whatever difference I had seemed to not interest those girls any more. They went on to someone else.
So whenever I see this early eighties fashion, it sort of makes me nervous. I think I do have fashion PTSD. When I talk to my other girlfriends that are my age, they had similar experiences. They feel the same way. I had one girlfriend who told me that at that time in her life, she felt paralyzed when it came to the clothes, if she tried to dress in the fashions, she was terrified that she would have been made fun of, and if she didn’t she risked ridicule as well. How awful, its just clothes. Or whatever the thing is that you are risking ridicule about.
I think for women who grew up at the same time I did, we can’t commit to this eighties redux. I see so many girls prancing around the Mission in their legwarmers, and playing with their Rubik’s Cubes, who were not even "a dinner and a movie" when that when that stuff was popular. They can wear the clothes, and they can think they are all cute and retro. They can have that style. But for me and for many of the women in my generation, we will just wait this thing out.
Back to the Jelly Shoes, I am still appalled. I am pretty sure that any woman my age is not going to buy them, if its not for the memories of sweaty feet and painful cuts, or the fact that regardless of the designer label, you can go over to Chinatown and buy them for five bucks. It might be for the time that it represents. Perhaps those shoes are for those rich 13 year old girls of this generation, the ones like I went to school with, who are thrilled to buy them and experience, the sweat, cuts, dirty feet, and perhaps the twisted ankle for the very first time. If only to make “fitting in” a little bit easier.
