Dyanna slipped a tape into the boom box on her dresser. She hit play with her long acrylic nails covered in Revlon’s blackberry polish and Pat Benetar rocked out of the speaker. It was 7am. Time to start the day.
After a quick shower, a mountain of Vidal Sassoon mousse and a thorough blow out of her hair Dyanna stood in a black satin kimono staring into her closet. She didn’t know what she wanted to wear, but it had to be perfect. The mixed tape playing transitioned from Pat to Motley Crew and something clicked. Dyanna was inspired. The perfect outfit came to her like a song from heaven.
She fell back on her bed, negotiated her legs into her jeans, held her breath to zip up then rolled off the edge and stood up, letting her body settle into the skin tight black denim. Dyanna pulled on a black cut-up half-sleeve sweat shirt, stepped into her favorite high-hell black suede boots and turned to the mirror. She couldn’t breathe yet, but she looked hot.
The crimping iron, big curling iron and tiny curling iron were all ready. It was time to make a decision. Dyanna stared down at the vanity and finally went for reliable comfort; the top-of-the-line pink and gray Conair crimping option. Fifteen minutes of the waffle shaped heat combined with just the right amount of Aqua Net and Dyanna had the perfect hair day she had hoped for. Next came the make-up kit. Layers of blue, magenta and lavender eye shadow held up by liquid black eye-liner and aqua marine mascara showcased Dyanna’s big brown eyes. Two strokes of frosted brownie lip stick and her face was complete. She grabbed her black leather bag by the chain link strap, lit a Marlboro Light 100 and cracked open a Tab just in time to hear her friend Michelle pull up outside. That was it. Dyanna was ready. She was ready for another day at school. It was March 29th 1988. awgryphon©