How I Fell In Love With. . .the boys of the 80's

(They're totally rad!)

by Emily

Sadly, I was too young to experience the gloriously decadent eighties to their fullest. I was born in 1976, so I spent most of the decade exploring a certain cabbage patch and repeatedly answering the question, "Can you and I be friends?" (I can't tell you how devastated I was when I finally realized that my dear old friend, a certain Mr. T. Ruxpin, wasn't in fact alive.) But there came a time when I got to taste a bit of the Eighties for myself.

Around age eleven, I became obsessed with movies. And it's a good thing I had the movies because, when I was that age, there was no such thing as a tween. There were no marketing departments dedicated to telling me what to watch, who to like, or what to wear. There was no Britney to counsel me about being "not a girl, not yet a woman." Those of us who fell into that pathetic, murky area between kid and teenager were on our own out there in the big world. We had to figure out how to be angsty teenagers without any advice from advertisers. Sarah and I developed our own teenage training camp -- the video store in Greentree Village Shopping Center.

We would walk -- yes, walk -- to the video store almost every Saturday morning. We'd scour the shelves for the sappiest movies we could find, and then cloister ourselves in the downstairs den of her house. We'd drift through the weekend on a pile of squishy floor pillows and an assortment of snacks that would make Little Debbie blush.

There, in that den, I learned about life. Or, to borrow a phrase. . .I suppose, in the simplest terms, I found myself in love with a brain, an athlete, a basket case, and a criminal.

These were the one hit wonders, fantasy loves that lasted but a brief moment in time -- roughly two hours give or take a scene.

I find that whenever I say "Jake Ryan," it always comes out in a reverent whisper, as more of an invocation than a name. I don't think I'm the only one who's given Jake demigod status, either, because when I invoke his name to women my age their eyes invariably go all soft and dreamy, and their shoulders slump in a kind of tender genuflection. Jake is the man. He's it. I know that part of his attraction is undoubtedly Michael Schoeffling's rock-hard abs and heartbreakingly sweet crooked smile, but it's more than the hot guy who played him. Jake Ryan -- the character -- is the guy that every high school girl dreams about.

He dumps the most popular, prettiest girl in school for the lovable loser Sam. Oh, and by the way, every girl in high school thinks she's Sam. I certainly did, and for several years after I fell for Jake, I looked for him in every prepubescent boy in middle school. (And high school. . .and college.) We don't love Jake because his relationship with Sam makes her popular or eligible for Homecoming Queen. We love Jake, because he wants something more than the parties and the nonsense of the teenage caste system. We love Jake because he and Sam were meant to be, and he wasn't afraid to buck the system for his girl. Oh, and the Porsche doesn't hurt either.

The only girls I know who don't melt at the sound of Jake's name are the girls who fell for Lloyd Dobler. Personally, I don't think you have to choose sides in the great Jake vs. Lloyd debate. I love them both. Just as Jake jumped the popularity fence for Sam, so does John Cusack's Lloyd break the boundaries of the status quo by wooing the beautiful and brainy Diane Court.

Lloyd takes the concept of following your heart to its greatest heights. He lives by the principle. He's sappy, and sweet, and funny. He's charming and adorable. And I loved him from go. But it wasn't until years after my first introduction to Lloyd that I realized why he's so compelling. Here it is: Lloyd is achingly, irresistibly open. In high school, boys are like these. . .slightly smelly puzzles. We, girls that is, have no idea what makes them tick. We just automatically assume it's boobs. It came as great shock when, years later, I found out that boys have feelings. A lightbulb went off -- Lloyd Dobler. I love Lloyd because he's a boy who shares his feelings!

When Corey tells Lloyd, "the world is full of guys. Be a man," he does. He lays his feelings -- his very soul -- out for all to see. That's what a man does. Lloyd was a man, a real man. That's why I fell, and continue to fall for Lloyd Dobler. I contest that any woman who doesn't get a little misty eyed when Peter Gabriel's "In Your Eyes" comes on the radio, should have all of her Victoria's Secret confiscated and her girl membership revoked.

Now, it wasn't just the sweet boys that I fell for during my adventures in eighties VHS. There was one particular bad boy that I had a soft spot for -- John Bender, the criminal (Judd Nelson). He's so broken, and battered and in need of a hug. He's filthy, but in a really good way. He's rude, and crude, and seriously sexy. When Molly Ringwald's Claire sneaks into the closet and kisses him, I cheer. I cheer because, deep down I once dreamed of turning a bad boy good. I know it never happens in real life, and I've never even tried. (I watch Oprah.) But the bad boy turning good is still the dream. For whatever reason, a lot of women fantasize about a guy with an edgy rough exterior, and a soft gooey inside. Kind of like a Klondike Krunch bar. (I sometimes fantasize about those, too.)

There is one truly unsung hero from my Eighties daze, a boy who is often left out of the pantheon of romantic high school hunks -- Keith Nelson. Who, you ask? Eric Stoltz as the quietly cool, copper-top artist in Some Kind of Wonderful. Much like Jake and Lloyd, Keith has a crush. He sticks his neck out in a major way for the girl of his dreams. Unlike Jake and Lloyd, however, Keith comes to the realization that the popular, beautiful girl he covets, isn't what he really wants. He discovers that what he really wants is his best friend, a lovable tomboy named Watts (Mary Stuart Masterson). Actually, Keith makes a lot of discoveries. The thing I love most about Keith, is that he never waivers. Not for a minute. He knows what he wants, and he goes for it. Also, it just so happens that Keith speaks one of the best closing lines in a movie. . .ever. "You look good wearing my future." Now really, how hard is it to fall for a guy who says that?

All of these boys that I discovered with Sarah, sitting on the floor of her downstairs den, had a huge impact on the way I viewed all the fantasy men (and real men) after. And I'll tell you the most important thing I've realized about this period in my life -- it's a good thing I wasn't into slasher films.

*Note: If, for some reason, you can't identify the films I reference here, run -- don't walk -- to the nearest Blockbuster and rent the films listed below.

Sixteen Candles (1984)

Say Anything (1989)

The Breakfast Club (1985)

Some Kind of Wonderful (1987)