Sunday, October 21, 2007

1987 all over again.

We just spent a lovely weekend in Duluth at a charming bed and breakfast with a name like something out of I Know Where I'm Going. But the important thing is that, at least in upper Minnesota, it's apparently 1987 again, if the big hair, blue eyeshadow, denim jackets, and footless tights are any indication. I suppose it's also possible that the 80s are simply making their way south after migrating to Canada in the mid-1990s, though.



5 comments:

Simon said...

Your powers of observation are enviable, man. As well as your powers of pop culture analysis. :)

De said...

You are so cool. I never thought I'd see anyone mention I Know Where I'm Going outside of the Criterion website or the Criterion LiveJournal group.

Matter-Eater Lad said...

Simon: I think the 80s will never die, because they were made entirely of plastic.

De: It's an amazing little film, isn't it? Somebody could make a pile of money turning it into a Broadway musical -- and I'm only about half joking.

Kate said...

Damn it. Now I have that song from I Know Where I'm Going stuck in my head.

Matter-Eater Lad said...

Play the Robin Sparkles video to take care of that.