Spice Up Your Life

Oh, hey look, the countdowns are back:

Days till Boston: 3
Days till I'm Really Old (23): 43

Yes, I'm going to Boston this weekend; no, it's not for fun. I'm going up to clean out my childhood bedroom, as my mother has officially kicked off her "Get the Children the Fuck Out of My House" movement. With me having already been gone for a solid 9 or so months, and my brother moving out for good this summer, she's already imagining how nice all of her belongings will look, strewn about the rooms that her children once claimed as theirs.

In her loving words, "Seriously, if you don't get up here this weekend, I'm throwing everything out. Even your stupid stuffed animals."

Thanks, mom.

Since I'm losing a (massive) chunk of my childhood, I was beyond excited to reconnect with my youth in what can only be called the single best way possible: on Thursday, we saw THE SPICE GIRLS.

Zig-a-zig ahhhh

I'm not entirely sure what a "zig-a-zig ah" is, but I do know that seeing The Spice Girls in concert has been my ultimate goal in life since I was 13 years old. I vividly remember the days when we used to dress up like each of the spice girls, wearing our platform shoes and feather boas, and speaking in horrifically garbled British accents. I was always Geri, not because I had red hair, but because I had a fiery personality (and was always kind of easy.)

The Spice Girls were feminists for our age - they were all about getting laid, but hey, a girl needed her friends' approval before taking that final plunge (er, so to speak.) "Girl Power!" was their motto, and young women everywhere embraced it. If we wanted to run obstacle courses in 6 inch stilettos (see: Spice World) then dammit, we were going to put on those heels and get out there. We could do everything just as well as the men, and look hotter doing it. If that's not feminism, then I just don't know what is.

My Idol

All-in-all, the concert was amazing. The Spice Girls are the fiercest bitches I have ever seen (take notes, Christian Siriano) and they put on one hell of a show; man bondage, man humping, and catwalks were just a few of the treats. They sang all my favorites (namely Spice Up Your Life and Wannabe - and When 2 Become 1, which I like to sing to Erin to make her uncomfortable) danced their asses off, and regaled us between wardrobe changes with an endless parade of hot, buff, sweaty men. Perfection.

The only thing less than perfect about the night was the fact that the four of us - a group of 22 year olds - were about 10 years older than the average groupie. Now, The Spice Girls officially formed in 1994 (when I was in the 4th grade, putting me at 10 years old), earned their nicknames (Posh, Ginger, et al) in 1996 (when I was 12 and in the 6th grade) and released Spice World in 1997 (13 and in the 7th grade.) They were really at the peak of their fame from 96-98, so my friends and I were old enough (or young enough) to hero worship them, and really keep track of what they were doing.

So, 10 or so years later, one would imagine the fanbase would be in their early twenties, and that the concerts would be packed with that age group. Instead, the Verizon Center was crawling with girls barely in high school - and they were all dressed up in ridiculous costumes. It'd been one thing when we did it, back in the late 90s when platform shoes were in, and when the girls were still curvy and didn't dress like sex pots, but now everyone was wearing ridiculously revealing clothing, and going on and on and on about how when they were 5, the Spice Girls were the best thing ever. Excuse you? When I was 5, I wanted to be a Ninja Turtle, so shut your mouths.

This was right after my "I want to be naked all the time" phase and right before my "I want to be Punky Brewster and rescue Cherry from the fridge" phase

What I also found startling about all the young girls, was that apparently "Wear Gold Spandex" had been announced that morning in homeroom, and everyone had taken it to heart. I've never even seen gold spandex before, let alone 1,000 girls wearing it. It was like the sales rack at Forever21 had been violently ill, and projectile vomited everywhere. All I wanted to do was start smacking bitches, but parents don't like it much when I assault their young children. At any rate, the beer line was exceedingly small, so at least we got alcohol into our systems. And, I suppose it's worth mentioning, we did have fun making fun of everyone around us. Although if I saw one more Scary Spice with those stupid braids made into horns on the top of their head, I thought I was going to kill someone.

Oh, I was going to buy myself a t-shirt, as they had an adorable pink one that said, fittingly, "If you wanna be my lover" but it was $50. $50 for a t-shirt with an estimated value of $10.50. So now it's time for me to log into ebay, and see if mama can find herself a discounted shirt. Wish me luck!