Went to Westside again today. Get along great with some ‘known fans’ Jo, Frank and Chris.
Waited til about 6ish and Simon came out. He had a khaki army suit on and a Gobochev t-shirt on. He looked well nice!!! (I think I’m in a picture with him).
John came out next and he kinda talked to us. He wore jeans and a t-shirt (not the one we bought) and dark glasses.
Then came Nick. He wore pink tracksuit bottoms and a top. He looked really nice.
Jo, Sylvy and Rae have gone out now (12.00 midnight). They’ve gone to find John.
Oh yeah. I phoned John!
Me: Is JANE there please?
JOHN: No. HE’S not.
Me: OK I’m very sorry.
JOHN: Okay then. Bye.
He was really nice. He seemed real happy.
NOTES ABOUT THIS ENTRY
First off, let’s discuss clothes. I have mentioned in a previous diary entry that I wore a magical mash of colours in the 80’s. I wore oranges and purples together. Light blues and reds together. Any colour went. But Nick – PINK TRACKSUIT BOTTOMS??? Lawks what was he thinking??? Wish I had a photo of them but it seems that nearly every picture that I have of Duran is from the waist up!
After bad clothes in the 80’s has to come bad hair. Check out my do in the pic with Simon – which I was most proud at the time as it was the FIRST one I had taken with him. (Well I said with him. Someone had just taken a picture of him and I just happened to be in the picture.) My hairdo can only be described as, well, a mullet! It wasn’t supposed to be. You see I have curly hair. And I hated it. Everyone had curly hair in the 80’s as perms were the fashion at the time. I didn’t want to be curly. So I had my hair cut short on the top and spiked. Like a punk girl. Unfortunately, my hair grew out very quick and I couldn’t get the spikes to stand up so the short bits just flopped. And started curling. So I ended up with the classic mullet. Nice! When it started to grow out more I used to crimp it – every day. Pictures will follow in later entries.
Now everything is so instant when it comes to photography. But back then your films had either 24 or 36 exposures on. When you had taken them all, not knowing what they looked like or if they had even come out, you would take them to the local chemist to get prints made. Then you waited a week or so. Then you collected them. You even got a new free film for getting the prints made. And so it went on. You never knew what you had taken until you opened the packet. Ususally standing in the chemist. Sometimes screaming with delight at a particularly lovely picture of Duran. Or screaming in disgust because all you got back was 24 prints with a sticker on each saying OVER EXPOSED. BAH.
The phone call was funny. Someone had given us John’s number that day I think. As it was John’s birthday we thought he’d be in. Niavely we thought he’d be having a party at home because that’s what you did when you had a birthday! I obviously thought it WAS John that answered the phone for the brief conversation. It sounded like him anyway.
Jo, Rae and Sylvy went out that night to go to John’s house, to find his party. I, being a chicken, stayed at home and was their alibi for if their mum’s called. That was the day they came back to me in the morning sticking of petrol and being filthy as they had to hide under cars all night whilst police drove up and down. The things people did eh? Madness!
(Sylv, Rae and I had bought John a t-shirt for his birthday. We waited every day for him to wear it. He did….soon!)