Gogo boots made of stunning white pleather
Bouffant hair lifted to honor the moon and stars and, somehow, a woman’s breasts
Stevie Wonder’s ‘Songs in the Key of Life’.
The gogo boots were in my mother’s closet. An enormous hair piece she used to put the B in bouffant was in the cabinet in her bathroom. And I was allowed to play ‘Songs in the Key of Life’ over and over on the stereo that was so massive, so imposing, so amazing that it seemed to be all that existed in the living room.
I was ten. I couldn’t help it. I would go into my mother’s closet and manage my small legs into her gogo boots, often taking what seemed like hours to zip them up while trying to keep my balance on those 3 inch stacked heels.
I would then stagger my way into the bathroom, remove the enormous hair piece from the cabinet, and have it fall sideways so many times before I’d attached it to my own hair with what probably amounted to 40 bobby pins that my little arms would ache.
Down the stairs I would go, my mother’s stunning white pleather gogo boots making each ginger step a life threatening event. My neck stiff and anxious from keeping my head in place so as to not jostle the enormous hair piece loose from where it had finally surrendered and allowed itself to be attached.
Gently, gently, I would bend at the knees, use the tips of my thumb and forefinger to place the needle onto the album, and turn the volume knob to ‘high’.
And then I would dance until I was lost in the middle of the living room with my eyes on the imaginary crowd as they took time to notice the cute little white girl singing back up for Stevie Wonder. Singing her heart out, swaying to the music, using her hands to wave or shake or place on her little hips to accentuate the beat. To make it even more beautiful, brave, meaningful, beautiful, fun. More enjoyable for anyone. More enjoyable for everyone!
What else could I have done? Tell me, what else could I have done?
That’s got to be one of the best albums of the last half century right there, so I don’t know what else you could have done.
I think you did enough. What a precious memory. I went through a phase when I wore my mom’s high-heels. I never felt comfortable in those suckers. Not to this day. I feel like a little girl in so many ways. I wrote a cheesy poem when I was, like, 25 called I am Not Meant for Womanhood. You can read it on this blog if you’re in the mood for some of my poetic little whore bullshit. Just scroll down past the bullshit to get to the poem Womanhood
(I made my first attempt at an html coded link in a comment. If it came out all fucky, I’m so sorry!)
We had the ginormous stereo too. Joy to the World (Three Dog Night version, not Christmas version) was what we turned up loudest.
This is officially one of my favorite posts. There was absolutely nothing else you could have done.
My mom’s boots were brown, she didn’t have a hair piece, and that stereo was the biggest, most important thing in the room. Was yours a big brown fake wood cabinet. One side was a tape deck, in the middle was the turntable, and the other side was radio tuner?
But it wasn’t Stevie Wonder at our house. It was Elvis, CCR, or Fats Domino… You took me back to a time I haven’t visited in a while. Thank you.
I think you had it covered! Love this post, just as much as I love my red gogo boots, and that’s A LOT!!!
AFM: Right there is right. Damn, that fuckin’ album simply makes my entire soul happy.
Gwen: Yeah, my “heels” these days are actually pretty low. Too much for the ol’ arches! Your link didn’t work and I’m glad. It would make me nervous if I didn’t have you to be as techno-nerd as me! I do, however, already know your poem and love it. Poetic little whores unite!
HIF: Three Dog Night for Christmas! YUMMY!
Angel: That thing was amazing! I think we were dealing with the same beast. Delicious!
Lola: Oh hell no! I did NOT get as much love as your red gogo boots. Damn woman. Just. Damn. I think I’ve even got butterflies in my stomach!
Of course you danced!! Have boots will travel! Remember Nancy Sinatra’s song? So cool. Since we are about the same age, I knwo we were probably dancing in “the Rabbit Hole.”
Favorite song on that S.W. album – “As”- I would dedicate to you.
Love you MG.
KO: I’m about crazy about seeing you and your sweetie tomorrow! I love you and am POSITIVE we have been dancing ‘in the rabbit hole’ for many lifetimes.
The boots are made for walkin’, and that’s just what I’ll do, these boots are make for walkin’, and I’ll walk all over you! GO NANCY! Except I think you and I would have carried a crow bar too.
This post is so sweet, mongoliangirl. Just the kind that make me smile.