Day 3: Dance Parties

Dance parties ruled the scene back in the day. I'm talkin' about school dances, birthday dance parties, and dance parties that broke out in 6th grade gym class. "Dancing" consisted of the electric slide or "Grape Vine," and "Slow Dancing" which involved a gap between partners big enough for a third person. Heaven forbid bodies touch- none of that! When I moved to private school in the eighth grade, the mantra was "Leave room for Jesus."

Besides the lack of dancing capabilities of a bunch pre-pubescent kids (booty dancing hadn't broken onto the scene yet), there was another asepct to these little gatherings. Fashion! I use the term fashion very, very loosely. I remember my friend Betsy's sister would fix our hair in these huge up do's and we'd don our matching Old Navy t-shirts and holographic belts. The jeans were carpenter and the shoes had rubber toes. Ahh, we were such fashionistas. Or so we thought we were.

Up until now, I've only been able to tell my friends about these events. No one can truly appreciate the glory of the Dance Party unless one was actually there.

Well, friends, I have a little present for you! Are you ready? Because it's pretty fantastic...

Thanks to a friend from way back, I have photographic evidence.

See me? Way over to the left with the blinding white sneaker? That's right. Converse baby. With a button down OPEN of course, kakhi shorts, and butterfly clips holding my hair back. You couldn't count the Tommy Hilfiger logos and the Old Navy tee's even if you wanted to. Oh my. We were young, innocent and uncomprehensibly and inexplicably tacky. Check out all that yellow baby!

I also owe it to you to explain the venue of this event. Some dance parties were in garages, some were in people's living rooms. Camphouses, church social halls, and porches also made the cut for acceptable venues for these events. But the mother of all venues- the "it" spot- the "mom pleaseeeeeeee let me have my party here" spot was The Boyscout Hut. Yes, there is such thing as The Boyscout Hut. It was a wooden cabin looking structure that looked like an advertisent for Allgood Pest Control. A termite's dream. You couldn't be more underwhelmed by a building, but for some reason everyone loved this place. It was famous. You knew you were cool when you got invited to a party at The Boyscout Hut. 

Looking at this picture reminds me of simpler times when my biggest problem was a rhinestone falling out of one of my jiggly butterfly clips. Or forgetting the combination to my locker. I still do the latter in the form of losing my keys, actually. Oh, and getting on the invite list to parties in a dark, wood clad camphouse across from the local textile mill. That one occupied my thoughts a considerable bit.

I look at the kids in this picture and think of the people we've become. My friend Jennifer and I wanted to be vets and open shop in my grandpa's old dentist office at one point. It's bittersweet to remember these days. What did you want to be? What did you want to have accomplished by this point in your life?

I wanted to be somehting that required wearing really sexy suits like in Victoria's Secret. No career path, just a choice of uniform. I'm just being honest here.