Today I feel a little sorry for my coworker H. She's mid-50ish and works in our stationery department; she's an odd duck who talks to herself all the time and often hums little snatches of music (Fur Elise is a favorite -- listening to her hum that first bar over and over again is maddening). Still, she's really sweet and even set up a rudimentary village in Frontierville so I'd have one more neighbor's livestock to tend. Anyway, the stationery department decided to have a "Dress like the 80's!" day today and H came in her wacky gear -- a short, tiered skirt, purple top, leg warmers, lots of dark blue eyeshadow, and a ponytail on the side of her head. Unfortunately, she was the only one in the department who remembered that today was the day, and I think she's mortified. Come to think of it, I was the only employee who remembered when it was store-wide "Loud Shirt Day!" a couple years ago. I felt like a right eejit in my fluorescent orange shirt emblazoned with a cartoon pig saying, "Please hug me. I'm full of sausage."
If I were to come dressed as I did in the 80's, I don't think I'd look much different than I do on a daily basis in 2010. Yes, there were a few Glamour fashion don'ts in my teenage years, but most of my 80's wardrobe consisted of jeans, t-shirts and tennis shoes. My hair was feathered, though, and for that I apologize.