I just read this book, Hairstyles of the Damned. My little sister gave it to me because she loved it and, man, it was weird. It’s about this sort of metal-head boy, a high school junior in 1990, who has a shit year and eventually sort of accidentally becomes a punk kid. What’s weird? Well my sister LOVED this book and you know, I was a junior in 1990 and all the bands and mix tapes and situations and bullshit in this book might as well be myself and everyone I knew then.
It was interesting to read. I mean the author is my age and clearly must have drawn on his won experieces to paint such a clear picture of exactly how it was then. And it didn’t make me melacholy, or miss those days or anything. I feel so incredibly removed from it now. I wonder how it was for my sister to read it, like when I read things about teenagers in the 70s or something? You can kind of connect but does it feel just like a story to her, when it feels completely real to me?