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Hmm, I don’t know, the swinging eighties just doesn’t have the same ring to it as the swinging sixties, does it?

According to my sister Susan, who knows these things because she works at Express on Sundays (on top of working at a bank full time, working at a college library one night a week, and getting her second masters degree online -holy crap how does she do it???) brace yourself: The sixties are mingling with the eighties for the fall fashion season. Call me a purist*, but I find this appalling. I want my vintage with my vintage. I absolutely do not consider the 80’s vintage. And that’s that.

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*Actually, now that I think about it, I was wearing a vintage house dress with spandex pants the other week, and I sometimes mix and match old and new, but that doesn’t change my hatred of all things 80’s.

Excluding my two sisters, I can’t really think of anything good that came out of the era. I can think of horrifying spandex leotards over spandex pants a la any aerobic workout video of the time and awesomely bad hair bands, but that’s about it. Can you prove me wrong?

Speaking of swinging, if you haven’t tried it, might I suggest to you all swing dancing? It’s extremely fun, unless you go to swing dances and perverted old men (and sometimes young men) try to hit on you. As an example, here’s a brief interaction I had with a weirdo at a swing dance when I was thirteen. Thirteen!

This conversation took place after we finished dancing. And might I add this dude came to the dance with a woman?

Creepy Man: I know this is a horrible question to ask a lady, but how old are you? My friend (motioning to the lady) can’t tell, but I think you’re 25.

Me: Actually, I’m thirteen. Peace out.

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Literally.

It’s a good idea to put your money where your mouth is.

P.S. You might have already known this (as did I, my mini-photo shoot just reinforced it), but money smells really weird, y’all.