What were we thinking?

Husband and I went to a party last weekend. An honest-to-goodness, out after dark without the children, party. A friend of Husband's is about to turn 40 and decided to celebrate the fact with an 80s themed do, given that all of us who are 40 or thereabouts had our finest moments growing up in the 1980s. All guests had supplied a picture of themselves from the said decade (Husband's was of himself playing in the band he was in at school and mine was taken by Husband in about 1987 and showed me with my growing-out perm. Classy.)

We entered into the spirit of the thing by taking along a bottle of Blue Nun. Did you know they still made that stuff? Neither did I until Saturday. It now comes in a blue glass bottle making it look just a little like a very expensive bottle of window cleaner. (Don't worry, we also took along something drinkable.)

The conversations with the other guests were hilarious. There was a large poster on the wall displaying all the photographs which had been sent in and we had a great time figuring out who was who and discussing the fashion/hairstyle choices. Now, I had always thought that I was not really much of a fashion victim in the 1980s. I never went out dressed like Madonna, for example. But in the discussions on Saturday night I realised that in fact, I wore some pretty abysmal stuff in my teens. Really. You want details? OK, here goes:

• legwarmers. Need I say more.
• fishnet tights. Electric blue fishnet tights.
• jeans so tight I could barely move and had to lie down flat to zip them up. Any sign of a slight flare in the leg was a direct route to social suicide.
• one of those scarves with gold thread through it, worn wrapped around the neck with the point at the front so you looked sort of like a Broadway version of a terrorist
• bright red baggy dungarees, worn loose with the legs rolled up to mid-calf, with a yellow collarless shirt underneath. And a leopard print chiffon scarf tied round my (permed) hair with a big bow on the top. I wish I had a photo of this one.
• metallic pinky-purple lipstick. It came from Miss Selfridge and the shade was called "Boy Gorgeous" It made your teeth look yellow.
• electric blue mascara. To match the tights, presumably.
• My dad's black cashmere V neck sweater. Worn back to front with the V at the back, accessorised with a double string of pearls. What was that whole V back thing?
• Hairspray. LOTS of hairspray.
• White court shoes (I am so ashamed)
• Black fingerless gloves, which went well with the........
• .........black nail varnish. My dad took one look at this combo and declared that it looked like I had dropped a brick on my fingers.
• Brown trilby hat. John Taylor had a lot to answer for.
• Ra-ra skirt. Least said the better.
• Grey and red striped boating jacket.
• White high necked blouse with purple and black pinstripes and a bow at the neck. Ack.

Looking back at the list of stuff I was impressionable enough to wear in public, I am now slightly less surprised that my friends also managed to make me go to see Kajagoogoo in concert.

Right. Your turn. Make me feel better in the comments with your fashion faux pas. Or just laugh at me, whatever you prefer.