The Day I Became a Man


Features | by — February 18, 2006


by Marko Domazet

Picture it. London. Summer of 2004. Hot weather. Moi even hotter in my newly purchased Levi’s 501 bootlegs working the retail scene (Man, I loved how those jeans made my booty look). Anyway, I was doing me best pretending to work, when this ginger thing came out of nowhere. Before I carry on with the story, it is of crucial importance to lay out some facts:

1.1. I really have a thing for ginger hair – especially ginger pubes. I think my worst nightmare would involve moi going down on that ginger bitch Lindsay Lohan. Think I would rather fuck a G.A.Y regular – bareback!

1.2. You just know that people popping out of nowhere mean trouble. I mean, just look at Ashlee Simpson and the damage she has caused, and she’s not even ginger.

1.3. Hair dye is really not that expensive. If that doesn’t work for you, just go for the porn star look. Either way, ginger pubes need to go. I know, because I once dated a ginger whose pube got stuck on my tongue. It made me not want to eat strong cheddar for quite a while.

1.4. I’m fully convinced that the whole Olsen-twins phenomenon is done with mirrors and that one of them is actually a hologram.

1.5. Only the first three points actually have something to do with the story, but sometimes you just have to get some things off your chest.

Back to the story. There I was, trying to look hot as this ginger thing was having a very, shall we say dramatic, conversation with one of my colleagues. The stiff body language, the vintage attire (and vintage is the nice way of putting it, as the whole look screamed Brenda Walsh of 90210) intrigued me immensely. Upon further investigation I discovered that the ginger was none other than the iconic 80’s megastar Miss Molly Ringwald! Seeing her brought a lot of memories back.

I don’t know about the rest of you, but I think that the 80’s were a great time. We were growing up, never fully exposed to the terrors of the world (I suppose this country has Maggie Thatcher and the way she censored the media to thank for that). People like Molly Ringwald made it possible to live in a fantasy world where even a ginger girl with a hideous prom dress (‘Pretty in Pink’ anyone?) lands a hot date. The 90’s came along, and despite being exposed to the ridiculous concepts of generation X, teen angst and Shakespears Sister, our generation persevered because we had faith, we believed in an easy life, we believed in a Molly Ringwald-ish state of things. Hell, we even believed that only one Bush would ever rule the States.

Then somebody decided it was time to grow up. For me it was the encounter with Molly that did it. Seeing her argue about petty things such as not being able to return a truly hideous dress, seeing the bad job she had done in concealing her wrinkles, seeing how her ginger hair had grown just made me have an ‘A-ha!’ moment. It was a rude awakening mind you, mainly because it resulted in me, for a mere micro-second, grasping the meaning of life, the sad state of the world and all the hard times life was going to throw my way. Confronting times such as these offer an opportunity to grow – an opportunity I grabbed by its ginger balls. The result, you wonder? Moi becoming a man and taking on the world.

I have to thank Miss Ringwald and her ginger barnet for grabbing my attention. She’s not only made me realize why the ginger thing definitely doesn’t work for me, but she’s also opened up my eyes ever so slightly. It’s almost been a year since that life-changing day and I still haven’t figured out whether I made the right decision or not. The only thing I know so far is that this whole growing up business ain’t all hunky dory. Besides the obvious, there is also the lack of idols, and to me that is the saddest aspect of it all. You actually have to be your own star as you can’t rely on today’s ‘professionals’. The evidence is all around us, kiddies. I mean, what lessons are all these indie boy bands (they all look and sound the same which makes them no batter than the boy bands of the 90’s) and z-list stars (yes ginger one in Girls Aloud and Lindsay Lohan, I mean you) trying to teach us? Why is Dr Gillian – a crazy Scottish lady who probably gets off on smelling fat people’s poo – the most controversial woman on today’s TV?

Eye-openers tend to be bittersweet, but thankfully one will always have the memories of those glorious days that are now forever gone. I personally, would like to thank Miss Ringwald for providing me with mine and, more importantly, for providing our generation with a blue print of a star. I hope you all join me in my next in-depth feature that explores how Martha Stewart and Delia Smith are the mothers we never had. Also, more theories (and possibly evidence) on the big special effect that is the Olsen twins. Over and out!

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