Every now and then I like to wax nostalgic about events in my past. I’m hitting thirty-seven years old very soon and, quite frankly, I miss a lot of things that helped make me who I am. So, on Thursdays, I will do an installment that tries to recapture the spirit that was left behind years ago. (But, seriously, was it really?).
Growing up in the 80s and 90s, pop culture WAS massive. If you weren’t part of it, you blew it. That’s not ageist at all considering that older people partook in this big cultural machine. However, if you still chose to ignore what was happening, sorry, it’s not returning. You won’t get it through the common-day remakes, reboots, prequels, and sequels oversaturating television, film, fashion/beauty, slang, and music. But, if you like to dip in the waters of remembrance, you’re welcomed to tag along.
Shall we begin?
Product: Manic Panic
Does anyone remember Manic Panic? My hair sure does. Ah, the memories of this semi-permanent dye of the 90s that made me look like a stage clown. In my quest to seem hip, deep, and non-conformist as a college student, I walked into a quasi-underground shop (*cough* Hot Topic *cough*) and bought a jar of the blue magic goo that would change my worldview.
Did it change anything? Yeah, right. A) I didn’t know that you had to practically either bleach your hair or have previously light-colored hair, and B) that raven-haired gals would have an extremely difficult time with this stuff. After application, my hair wasn’t blue. It was still black, but ashy (like I wandered through an active volcano). Thankfully, it was semi-permanent and with a few washings, my relationship with Manic Panic ceased.
Yes, after one try, I gave up. This hair dye and I would not endure a future pairing. Both the dye and my money went down the drain. Thankfully, Miss Clairol took its place and gave me the hair marriage I deserved. Fortunately, for the company, Manic Panic hooked other “non-conformists”. It has become a makeup staple to many well into the 2000s, and quite possibly, beyond.
Gwennie, Gwen, Gwen. I’m happy for you; but, Miss Clairol gave me the best hair color of all time.