Baby, You’ve Got Class!

  • Seventeen Magazine 1987

    Seventeen’s Back-to-School 1987 issue

The back-to-school issue of Seventeen magazine: was there anything dreamier in all of Teenagedom? I can still conjure the smell of it, that combination of glossy pages and perfume samples. Three times as thick as a regular issue, the back-to-school edition was unfailingly packed with girls in bright tartan plaids and chunky sweaters, posing in front of lockers or ivy-covered facades. I pored over it, page by glorious page, lying on the floor of my bedroom and listening to a cassette tape of Madonna. It was the Eighties.

In Southern California, back-to-school weather is crackling hot, which worked for me since I could only afford to shop the clearance rack, and any new clothes of mine would be summer remnants anyway. The one first-day-of-school outfit I can remember consisted of a black-and-white-striped, sleeveless, crew neck sweater; white, high-waisted suspender shorts either handed down or stolen from my sister; huge silver hoop earrings that were wide enough to see your reflection in, and a scrunchie. I was proud of that outfit. I planned it weeks before school started. I can’t remember the shoes, though. I may have blocked them from my memory; I could never get the shoes right. I am still shoe-challenged.

Today I saw a Target back-to-school ad and was hit with a wave of nostalgia so intense it was almost painful. My adolescent self would punch me in the face if she heard me say this, but I am jealous of the kids going back to school right now.

I miss that new-leaf feeling: the discovery of new teachers and new books, new gossip and new crushes. New music in choir—how I miss choir!—and a new round of auditions in drama. I miss the slant of the light between the buildings as the rushing current of students carried me from class to class.

For a moment, I thought I even missed the digital sound of the class bells, but no. What I miss is the schedule and the structure, decisions made for me and enforced by someone else, so I could simply do as I was told, then blame the powers that be for the stupidity of it all. If I was unsuccessful it was only because I was too good for such mundanity.

Of course many back-to-school memories are not pleasant. Every math textbook ever issued to me, without fail, had a penis drawn in it. WHY? Maybe we’d have more women in STEM careers if we weren’t haunted by crudely drawn penises whenever we opened a math book. Just saying.

No,  I haven’t forgotten how I hated school—I was miserable in junior high and high school. I remember the bitterness of it, the relentless self-loathing and shame, comparing myself to girls who were skinnier and prettier and more confident than me. Oh wait, I still do that—the difference is that then, those feelings were soothed by the conviction that someday, I would magically be better. After graduation, I would metamorphose into something spectacular, and that would show them!

I was destined for greatness. It was a vague sort of greatness, but I knew it would involve fame: an author, an actress, a singer. It had to be something very high-profile so that every boy who failed to notice my [utterly unexpressed] longing for him would wish he had.

You often hear people lamenting their lost innocence. I lament my lost ignorance. I want to un-know these things:

  • Success is built on mundanity. No one is above the grind.
  • Boys do not notice you longing for them unless you tell them that you are longing for them, which is an extremely uncomfortable conversation that rarely achieves the outcome you desire.
  • If you want to be a famous author, you must actually write things, sometimes years and years of things, before anyone will take notice.
  • You can spend all your time and money on being prettier and skinnier but that won’t make you more confident, and being confident takes a level of self-trust that money cannot buy.

Oh, to believe in Seventeen magazine again! I want a new outfit to make everyone notice me! I want a “Can’t-Miss Haircut” and “260 New Ideas for Fall”!  I want a Trapper Keeper full of fresh paper and pens, like magic feathers to keep me organized and productive. I want to know, with the conviction of my 15-year-old self, that I am going to do something great someday.

That is nostalgia: bitter with loss, sweet with perspective. I had so much and so little then. I have so much and so little now. Things change, but they stay the same. I still want to be noticed. I still want to do great things. I just need more somedays!

My 46-year-old self clings to this wisdom:  today is someday, simple things can be great things, and I am the only one who needs to notice.

 

 

 

14 thoughts on “Baby, You’ve Got Class!

  1. Meg, you are amazing. I have yet to read one of your blogs without crying and connecting connecting with you on a level know to only people our age. Thank you for your fun recollection of your youth…..may of us can relate. Beach House soon?

    • Sorry I said connecting twice…and know is supposed to be known…..and May is supposed to be many….I’m so tired! Gads. Maybe next time I’ll reply in the morning but I’m sure you got a good laugh out of it!

      • It’s okay! I understood you just fine. I read it half-asleep too, so perhaps we were speaking the same language. Yes, beach house soon, please!

  2. As always, FABULOUS post, my friend! So remember that same excitement… and also learning that I did not ever seem to look quite the same as the girl on the cover…. for me it was always the hair. My hair was never quite right. And like your shoe issue, my hair has yet to remedy itself either… it’s still never quite right. I do miss that a colorful magazine provided so many hours of entertainment and planning, and really made me believe that THIS would be the year that I would be cool and everything would fall into place.

    Thanks for the trip down memory lane!!! Love you!!

  3. How do you do it?? Brought me right back there with you — every detail so true! Those were some great memories… Fantastic story Meg ❤️

  4. Meg! Do you actually have this issue saved? Yes, I also loved the “going back to school” time. Growing up in Michigan, all the golden leaves made September seem more magical than the rest of the year. Since I went to parochial school, and we wore uniforms, I got excited about new notebooks. Still do. Thank you for reminding me that the possibility for something new is around every corner. And that with age comes wisdom…and perspective…and humor. We can’t get it all right at fifteen! We are still developing. I love the phrase “a vague sort of greatness.” I longed for some version of awesome. Now, as I simplify my life, I do see greatness in it. Have a day today as wonderful as if you were going back to school.

    • No– I found this issue and many others for sale on Ebay! I didn’t buy them. But I still remember the covers! I would probably also remember the ads in them. It’s tempting to buy one just for memory’s sake.

      Thanks for reading, my dear! Hope you have an excellent season, full of new things, too!

      • I always appreciate your details; sun between buildings, scrunchies, drawings in math books. These are the words that help me drop quick and deep into your world. Bravo.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s