This Much Love Monday is brought to you by 1981 and Adam and the Ants. I just spent 30 minutes re-enjoying the best of Adam and the Ants on Youtube to find this for you.
A long, long time ago, before I loved Cap’n Jack, before I loved Gary Oldman as Dracula, before I loved the lithe and snake hipped Axl Rose, I loved another man in make-up, another man in leather trousers and thigh-high boots, another man with plaits and ribbons. That man was Adam Ant.
In 1981, the young Lady Justine was caught up in a world which revolved around five men. Those men were her Dad, her Gramps, her uncle Paul, her flame-haired teacher Mr Parkes and Adam Ant. Those men were the only men worth any consideration at all. One of those men fanned the flames of her first crush. That fanner of flames was my Uncle Paul and I blame him for the transgressions that would happen over the next twenty years.
The first thing was that he bought me a poster. At least, I think he did. It was a poster of the glorious Adam Ant at the age of 26. That poster went up on my wall and stayed there for a good few years, and I never, ever got over my love of men in tight pants and make-up. I got Adam Ant singles and LPs for a while, and an Adam Ant folder, which is still cool.
The poster was this one:
Men in lip gloss…. ahhhhhh…
Oh to be eight again, when the only thing that really mattered was whether you were on Shakin’ Stevens’ side or Adam Ant’s. I was soooo Adam Ant. So.
I think this says it all about you as a girl from the 70s in the UK. If you liked Shakin’ Stevens, I bet you grew up to be a good girl who liked nice men and spent your life being nice and shopping at M&S. And if you liked Adam Ant, well, a catalogue of ne’er-do-wells, miscreants and colossal deviants lay before you. And in 1981, between my posters of Adam Ant on my bedroom wall, and the framed print of John Travolta as Danny in Grease on my classroom wall, it was no surprise I was going to grow up loving the naughty boys.
Shakin’ Stevens was always for the nice girls – the man who took the sex out of young Elvis, who turned him into a nice boy not far removed from Cliff Richard – and he never floated my boat. Not his denim and clean looks, not his clean rock and roll. I guarantee you a girl who loved This Old House in 1981 never grew up to dye her hair or wear too much make-up. She never staggered home drunk and she never kissed a boy whose name she didn’t know. She always did her homework and handed it in on time.
Give me punk and eyeliner any day. You can wear yellow pixie boots and put ribbons in your hair and I’ll love you all the more. Lace? Why ever not? Satin? It would be rude not to. Capes? Pourquoi pas?!
Adam Ant might have fallen off his rocker. Axl Rose got fat and crazy. Johnny Depp still looks good and isn’t bonkers as far as I know, but sanity was obviously not a strong point of men I fancied back in the day.
So, here’s to the crushes of our youths, be they crazy in their later years.
Here’s to being eight, and the first time you love someone with your whole heart, even if they are a man in make-up and thigh boots.
What else am I loving this Much Love Monday?
Loving the autumn weather, which is coming in thick and fast now it’s the first night of October.
Loving the squirrel I saw yesterday, hopping along the road, and the several hundred pheasant that keep running out in front of the car. Luckily, I drive slowly and I’m not whipping around the countryside like a loon.
Loving the fact that the few series I do still watch are all airing new episodes. CSI? Check. CSI NY? Check. Grimm? Check. NCIS? Check. Throw in a couple of other goodies like Modern Family and I’m happy. If only Game of Thrones was back on…
Loving royalties. They always turn up at just the right moment.
Loving that Heston and Tilly Pop still play even though he’s too big to play with her and she just always ends up on her back. She’s obviously taking Nurse’s husband’s advice from Romeo and Juliet about falling backwards.
Loving people who give me seeds and plants. One day, my garden will have flowers and pretty things in it, beyond the small, small bit I’ve done so far.
Loving my Living Poitou-Charentes delivery route. I get to drop in at all the bars, cafés, shops and restaurants in the area and say hi to lovely people. What could be nicer? I guess being able to stay an hour and have a drink rather than rushing off for the next drop, but then the route would take me two weeks, not two days…