STEPH DEROSA: IS THERE A TACOMA STYLE? >>>
I can't stay away from Six Olives for too long, which is exactly why it was time for a little jazz and martini action with the girls. The small plates are perfect for munching, grazing and snacking in the most feminine way possible. It's ironic that I feel I'm a much daintier woman when I don't have to use utensils to eat.
My main partner in crime that night, Gayle Selden, was downing their fabulous Cherry Cokes like they were water. Coke paired with cherry vodka and a red licorice straw makes for a dangerous evening of fun when Gayle's around. Eventually we needed relief, so we paired up and headed to the bathrooms.
Inside the stall we were taken back to a geometric decade of our lives: The 80s. Pink walls, black squares and champagne posters. We loved it. Immediately our conversation turned to all things 80s: Poison, boom boxes*, Hammer-time, Rubik's Cubes, and pinch-rolled acid-washed jeans.
Ugh. That's right, the acid washed jeans. Hell, all the clothes for that matter. Then it hits me: I remember a comment someone had made in passing recently about clothes of the 1980s.
A couple of weeks ago (I have no concept of space or time, so this actually could've been last year or yesterday), yeah a couple of weeks ago we had Bandito Betty's bachelorette party. The group of us girls that were honored enough to be there had plenty of pictures to spread around and share with each other after it was all said and done. We laughed at the memories, recalled drunken moments, and attempted to remind www.myspace.com/thekake ">KAke of Jagermeister shots it seems she had forgotten she downed. While we were rejoicing in our fun weekend, one girl on the outside was presenting us with signs of small-mindedness and jealousy.
She wasn't at the Bandito Bachelorette Bonanza, she was at home in Miami, but she did take a gander at the pictures. The first comment she made was,Was this an 80s party?
What? Are we that out of style? Wow, I sure didn't think we were. I thought we all looked great. We looked like ourselves. Our clothes reflected who we were. And you know what? Besides all that¬" who fuckin' cares if we're out of style?
We live in the Pacific Norwest for Pete's sake. Individuality is embraced and encouraged here. Is there even a style,so to speak? Isn't not having a style the style right now? I can stand on the street in the middle of Tacoma, see 10 people walk by, and none of them look like they're wearing the same style.Tell me honestly (maybe this is just me): if you saw some dude walking past you with feathered hair and a Members Only jacket, wouldn't you say to yourself,That's awesome? To have the huzzah to say,I don't care what people think, THIS is what I'm wearing today is admirable.
As I said, maybe it's just me, but I feel as though being trendy is not as hip here as it is in say, Miami. If trendy is the mentality in Miami, then I don't want to be there. I don't want to be cookie cutter, shallow, fake tan, tons of makeup, judged by my clothes, stuck on some dumb dance floor listening to uncreative, headache-inducing house music that some dude on acid is presenting as his beatz. F that noise.
We exit the bathroom and Gayle agrees with me: To be able to wear whatever the F you want, feel secure, and not become judged is gold. That's right, it's not 80s, you superficial Miami girl, it's GOLD. And it's right here in the great PNW.
Well, it's here in the PNW most of the time, anyway.
*Boom Box: Carmen's nickname in college.