Mem'ries, Misty Water-Coloured Fashion Friday

For this week's installment of Fashion Friday, I would like to pay tribute to Dwight Turner. The man! The myth! The Broadway musical! That's right, Dwight. Dwight Turner.

By now you are no doubt confused and are searching your brain filing cabinet for your file on this very person, and your inner dialogue is goin' "Who the eff is Dwight Turner?"

Well, I'll tell ya. Dwight is very much a real person, but to me he will always be that archetype, that concept, that Big Man on Campus who ruled da skool. The one who peaked in high school. The one who stood golden on top of the pyramid of social hierarchy, the one for which it was considered to have his locker and favourite cafeteria table bronzed after he graduated.

Yep, he graduated all right. But it took him a few extra years to do it. When I was in grade nine he was two years ahead of me, and yet there he was collecting his high school diploma the same year that I did.

I think he failed on purpose, and that he was trying desperately hard to stave off the inevitability of entering a world where he could not be David Lee Roth anymore. Or King of the Airband Competition. Dwight and his entourage took the Airband thang mega seriously; the year they won with Twisted Sister, they even had roadies with homemade laminates, wearing their mothers' old wigs; minions who were on constant standby in the wings to assist in case those cardboard guitars broke a fishing wire string, or needed a scotch tape repair.

Here's Dwight's yearbook picture, which is a true testament to his teenage power. No one else got to wear sunglasses or get a cool pseudonym.


Dwight, as A. Ferrari

In addition to being King of the Airband, Dwight was King Rock N Roll. He would often come to school wearing most excellent concert T-shirts, garments that made it pretty damn clear that he was rockin' it large on a school nite at all the best shows in the big city. I looked on with envy, looked on from my safe little world full of safe little decisions, like deciding "is it gonna be the Beatles Red or Blue album tonight?"

Here's Dwight's prom ensemble, that today would make a great Halloween costume. I call it a "Fuxedo", cuz it's a super formal tux on top and a Fuckin' A party all the way on the bottom.

*snakeskin spandex pants? CHECK.
*fedora? CHECK.
*white hightop sneakers? CHECK.
*Dwight's dignity 20 years later, looking back at this photo? That seems to suddenly have gone missing.



Incidently the blonde haired pretty boy in the photo to the right of righteous Dwight is Andy Stronach. Now the name Stronach may not resonate strongly beyond Canadian borders, but that name holds good or bad significance, depending on the average Canadian's political affliliation.



Andy is Belinda Stronach's little bro'; both she and Andy went to my high school. My public high school. Props to the Stronach parents for sending their kids to a free-for-all educational institution even when they could have carted them off to some elitist, super rich private academy catering to the schooling of the Roman Numeral Kids. Tyson Bennington-Howard IV. Spencer Cavendish-Huntley III. These names are made up. It's fun to make up Roman Numeral Kids names. My fave name-maker-upper is director/writer Wes Anderson. Raleigh St. Clair, Eli Cash, Pagoda, Steve Zissou, Royal Tenebaum...amazing.

Anyway, in high school Belinda gave no indication of an interest in politics. Hell, I don't even think she was on our student council. I do remember that she drove a pretty hot silver Z-28 and had perfectly feathered hair. She, like Dwight, wore cool rock t-shirts and was a couple of years ahead of me. But unlike Dwight, she graduated successfully on schedule. Many would say her failings would come years later.

Whatevs. She certainly knew her way around a curling iron.



currently listening to: Archer Prewitt, White Sky ( a top five, desert island disc...go find it NOW!)