sprezzatura: (80s!)
  • Recent general election resulting in change of administration: check
  • Tory government impose dramatic and sweeping spending cuts resulting in job losses, demonstrations and riot: check
  • Fashion shops full of stiletto boots, batwing sweater dresses and leopard print: check
  • Boys* get this for their birthdays: check
  • High streets full of punks and people promoting The Socialist Worker: check
  • Crimpers gaining popularity on the Goth scene**: check
  • Announcement of Royal Wedding and national holiday: check

    Is this Gene Hunt's Cop Narnia or have we actually slid through a wormhole to thirty years in the past?

    *Ed, from my mum. I am dead of envy.
    **If WGW, which seemed to have rejected woolly hair extensions and dayglo trousers in favour of extra strength Elnett and black was anything to go by! Hoorah!
  • sprezzatura: (Fagpuss)
    Folllowing on slightly from yesterday's post, what, or who, used to scare you as a child?

    A universal figure of terror was the sinister presenter of 1980s schools programme Picture Box, who gave me the creeps anyway but started to give me nightmares when he introduced a programme about The Legend of Sleepy Hollow. The very thought of him saying the name "Ichabod Crane" still gives me the willies even to this day.

    In slightly younger days I was mortally afraid of bearded purveyor of puppet-based horror Yoffy from Fingerbobs. Just look at that picture and tell me he doesn't have a glint of pure baby-eating evil in his eye?

    Books were frightening! I was petrified of zombies for ages after reading a poem about one at school, the only lines of which I can remember are:

    There's a zombie in your room
    And with it dwells your doom

    Though on reflection I think the scariest thing about that is the crushingly unimaginative rhyme. I had to keep a perfectly innocent text about the kings and queens of England in the wardrobe after reading about Anne Boleyn and Charles I being beheaded as though I thought their headless ghosts would come drifting out of the pages to terrorise me in my bed.

    My crappest, most pathetic childhood phobia of all, by which I'm still vaguely embarrassed even though I was only about three at the time, was Gabriel the Toad from Bagpuss. My mum watched an episode with me once to reassure me that he was alright and it quickly became one of my favourite programmes, but given my current music taste I can't help wondering whether my mum wouldn't have been better letting me be and raising me with a healthy fear of beards, banjos and folk singing!
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