You have probably influenced millions. And you have influenced me. I don’t even know why I was drawn to you so strongly as a teenager (probably because My father was listened to you in my preteen years? thanks dad, sorry mom.)
Thank you for your style.
I too have always wanted to die my hair orange, but never had because of a fear of permanency.
Metallic teal eye shadow never worked with my complexion, but don’t believe I haven’t dreamed of it. I will always pass on pale pink lipstick though…did that one—the wrong way.
Thank you for daring to be different, although sometimes you were scary, I’m glad you shared it.
Oh, how can I forget? Thank you for doing labyrinth. That’s when I first came to love you I suppose, like many other children. Yes you were a bad guy, but I still felt sorry for you.
As a final memory for the night, remember the time I was at a military themed youth dance in Monmouth Oregon (sorry friends for dragging you) and I requested “lets dance” to liven up the sorry crowd—surely an 80s classic like that would do some sort of magic on the awkward evening. But, it had the exact opposite effect. Instead, as the first notes came too loudly through the speakers and I ran excitedly to the middle of the gym with my best friend’s hand in tow. It was only a few lyrics sung at the top of my lungs that I realized the whole crowd had cleared to the dark edges of the gym. No one was dancing, but my friend and I. In a social panic that only a 16 year old can experience, I shifted my gaze through the recessed crowds looking for an ally. I rushed to a boy one year younger and pulled him to the middle while begging him to dance. With a pained expression and bright red face he joined in as we three awkwardly danced those 4 minutes and 10 seconds in tribute to you.
P.S. No one joined. It is still a great song.