We left the café and sauntered along Deansgate before zigzagging through numerous side streets which, according to Mum, would lead us back to Market street. We browsed around some shops and just looked in the windows of others. They weren’t all clothes shops. We spent a few minutes looking in the window of a shoe shop and Mum asked my opinion on girl’s footwear. “Those are OK.” I said, pointing to the ubiquitous black flat ballet style. “And those.” I added, pointing to some hiking style boots with a chunky sole.
“So you’d wear heels?” Mum asked.
“Err… maybe not.” I said. I hadn’t noticed the heels initially. They aren’t high but they are significant and chunky like the sole. “I’d probably break my ankle.” I preumed.
“Yeah… the world is full of women with broken ankles.” my mother sarcastically retorted. Maybe she’s got a point. “When I was growing up, girls were discouraged from doing things like playing football and climbing trees…” she reminisced. “…but us girls used to think we could do anything a boy could do, and more.”
“Well, you were right.” I said. Their panoramic choice of clothing was in the forefront of my mind.
“Yeah… we were.” she smugly replied. “But it works both ways… if a girl can do it, then surely a boy can too?”
“Only to an extent.” I replied after a moment of musing. “I doubt I’d get away with wearing ballet pumps at school.”
“Is that what you’d like?”
“Not really… I dunno… I’d just like a world where we can wear whatever… girls can wear pants so…”
“Hmm… it’s unfair.” Mum said as we began sauntering once more. “In the early eighties when we had the likes of Boy George and Prince and the whole New Romantic thing… it certainly looked like things were heading in that direction.” she said.
“What happened?”
“Nothing really… it was the 80s and there was a new trend every five minutes.” she told me. “Punk, New Wave, Two Tone, Alternative and Indie… Nuworrbumm…” she grinned.
“What?” I exclaimed.
Mum chuckled and told me it’s an acronym for the new wave of British heavy metal. “Bands like Iron Maiden and Judas Priest were just getting their big break. Hip Hop was becoming mainstream… Goths appeared, we had Synth Pop, House and Techno…”
“All in one decade?” I asked.
“Mm-hmm.” Mum replied. “Speak of the devil!” she said, stopping us in our tracks.
“What?”
“There.” she said, gesturing towards a shop window in which is a huge poster depicting Satan as a puppet master and the words Iron Maiden. “The Beast is Back!” It hails the re-issue of their classic Number of the Beast album.
“Can we go in?” I asked, noticing that the discount retailer sells vinyl as well as CDs, DVDs and books. “They’re cheaper in here!” I exclaimed after finding the vinyl section and many pressings were ten or fifteen pounds.
“Found anything you want?” mum asked.
“Loads.” I replied, pointing out Muse and Green Day.
“Cool.” Mum said. “Are you going to buy them?” she asked. I nodded eagerly. “Shall we have a look at the T shirts?”
