Eighties Jellies are Back
Spotted on the Brooklyn-bound F train at Bergen Street, a true blast from my past in an enticing lavender. I squealed when I saw them. For a brief moment, I was certain I’d need to hunt them down and buy them. Then, from the dusty corners of my brain where the lyrics to “Pac-Man Fever” and clever ideas for beading friendship pins lie, a voice came to me. “For someone who hates wearing any shoes at all,” it scolded condescendingly, “you sure have a skewed memory of how painful those stupid things were.”
Still… nostalgia! And… purple!