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with those big bows in your hair.

I wasn't allowed to go to movies, but I remember reading all about them in the teen magazines I saved my money to buy. The Brat Pack had to be the coolest of all the cool movie stars. I listened to the theme songs on the radio and guessed the plots. You know your were a part of the eighties when you still believe, in 2008, that music was the best. Seriously, whatever happened to songs like "Separate Lives" and "Time After Time"? I still miss the edgy music of "Miami Vice," but it is the love ballads like "Ain't Missing You at All" and "You're the Inspiration" that makes me want to grab my husband and dance today.

George Strait, Reba McIntire and Alabama were topping the charts in country music. I had an eclectic ear, even then. Depending on my mood, you could hear Huey Lewis and the News or Ronnie Milsap from my boom box. I didn't carry it around with me, but it wasn't too far away.

"Do you remember who shot J.R.?" I asked my friend. She had to think about it for a minute before she got the answer right.

I knew that one without even thinking about it. It was Kristen, Sue Ellen's sister. She had an affair, just like half of Texas, with J.R. My friend had forgotten that she was also the mother of Christopher, the baby Bobby and Pam adopted. J.R. wasn't the father and poor little Christopher was born in prison when his mother was sent to prison for trying to kill J.R. I remember all of that. I even bought a t-shirt that read, "I didn't shoot J.R., but I wanted to."

"Dallas" competed with "Dynasty" in the ratings. I doubt I will never forget the cat fights between Crystal and Alexis. I remember gasping as they fought in the swimming pool. I was alarmed at the fight, just that they both ruined those expensive clothes they always wore. I never dreamed I could ever wear clothes that expensive.

I did copy the style, not the price tags. Shoulder pads and the wide belts. All of the bold colors and geometrical shapes. My closet was full of those clothes. I also had the torn jeans and layers of tank tops. My leg warmers were carefully folded in a dresser drawer. What was I thinking - leg warmers? As much as I loved the clothes of the eighties and hope many of the styles eventually come back, I won't be wearing leg warmers.

The eighties were a great decade to be a teenager. I look back at those years and I am thankful I was becoming an adult then. The sixties and seventies were too turbulent for me and the nineties were far too dangerous for teens finding there own way. It was a much simpler time, compared to now. I am still hoping the clothes will come back in style. Maybe in time for my daughter to enjoy them during her teen years. If she wants to wear leg warmers, I will probably let her. When I see her with them on, I know exactly what I will say - "Gag me with a spoon."

Learn more about this author, Emma Riley Sutton.
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