Celebrating all things Eighties

January 2012: In just a few weeks’ time massive names in the 80s pop music scene will be jetting into the country and . . . gasp . . . are lined up for a mega concert at King’s Park Stadium on February 25, 2012.

Big names that used to take our breath away, like Howard Jones, Tony Hadley of Spandau Ballet, the cornball cute Rick Astley, Midge Ure of Ultravox, Mark Almond, Go West . . . these guys had the moves, they had the hair and they wore those terrible clothes. Indeed, they set many a heart a-flutter and stirred envy in young lads who desperately wanted to be like them. And we’re not even talking about the music yet, which was brilliant in its own quirky, electronic, way.

Midge Ure gets a bit serious ... the music was brilliant

If you were born after 1985, then forget it. There’s no way you’re ever going to get the vibe. The effort that went into trying to achieve that perfectly sculptured hairstyle, the ubermullet, or attaching studs at just the right spot on that dodgy leather wristband. The scrunchies, shoulder pads, super poodle hairstyles, that epic pair of parachute pants. One thing captures the spirit of the 80s more than any other item in my mind . . . those funny little black lace-up sandshoes made popular by Madonna, that we all rushed out to buy. After a while they started to pong because you wore them every single day, with or without socks, but nobody gave a damn. And there was the single glove. White, or black lace . . . wow!!

All the event info and line-up here

Some further thoughts from a firm 80s fan: “Double belts! Clip-on earrings. Bangles filled with different coloured liquid. Clip-up skirts. Neon T-shirts with vests over the top. Pastel-coloured sportabouts.”

One of my colleagues has reminded me of the allure of spandex, another about jumpsuits and ankle boots with tassles, then there were three-quarter pants and leopard print vests.

Yikes! We’re used to macho roaring crowds and tries in the corner at the Shark Tank; this time round it’s going to be roars of delight as these golden oldies belt out the hits of the 80s in front of their legion of adoring (if slightly scary-looking) fans.

Yes, nostalgia, those were the days. A time of apparent innocence, or so it seems through the foggy haze of time. It’s true that you can never go back . . . well, perhaps for just one day. – Garth Johnstone