It’s the highlight of my week, Saturday night movie night. I look over to the 3-year-old sitting with her huge bowl of popcorn, the bowl nearly as big as her head. The dog is lying up beside her, waiting and hoping to catch any casualties, that might fall out as she tries to grab a handful with her tiny hands. I look over to himself, with another bowl, that huge familiar smile from ear to ear. It could be the antics of the minions, or it could be the calm and contentment, that is “Saturday night” making him grin. I then think back to Saturday nights gone by and how they were always the highlight of my week. Every week On the same mission, to find love. I’d never admit it to any of my friends! But that was my goal. I’d get dressed up, head out with the gang, have a dance, drink too much and in the back of my mind hope that “this Saturday night” was thee night.
Saturday night 1999
getting ready to go out in 1999 was so easy!
Step one: apply pan stick all over the face (contouring hasn’t been invented yet)
Step two : blow dry hair, and style, this involves turning your head upside down and flicking it back, now cover with hairspray, the one in the huge green can, a hurricane won’t budge it now (the only way to get your hair poker straight was to iron it, with an actual iron and ironing board and I never had time for that crac)
Step Three: apply glitter everywhere, dust on cheeks, dab on eyes and stick some to your lips with vaseline
and that was it, I was ready to parrrty.
A time was set, there was a place to meet and we all made it there in one piece.( without a mobile phone? just imagine..) The night would start out in our smoke-filled local pub, if someone went to the toilet we stared at our drinks until they came back. ( no google to occupy ourselves). If we fell (because of our spice girl shoes, not the malibu and coke) nobody knew about it because there was no evidence on facebook. (there was no facebook)
those were the days…..
I never found love tho
Saturday night 2002
I was working and renting a place in Rathmines in Dublin, a proper grown up
Getting ready to go out involved:
Step one: The tunes, Oasis, Robbie Williams, or pink, with a few Smirnoff Ice
Step two: Applying purple eye shadow to the whole lid of the eye, no need to blend.
Step three: Sun shimmer everywhere with a touch of high gloss lip gloss (that was so sticky your hair would be attracted to it all night, sticking to it like a fly and one of those fly sticky traps)
I should pluck my eyebrows to one very skinny line but I never had time for that crac
We all had mobile phones and used them to text, (the importance you felt when that text beep went off on a bus full of people) Mine was Nokia 3210. I even used to get a text message every week to tell me my star sign, it costs €5 per text. Money well spent in my book.
I got my first hair straightener, how did I live without it?
And now I was living in the big city we would head to a proper night club, not like the ones back home. With no slow set!!!! (how am I ever going to get a shift?) We would dance all night with not a care in the world.
those were the days..
I never found love tho
Saturday night 2005
still renting that place in Rathmines,
getting ready to go out involved:
Step one: A few vodkas and red bulls to the sounds of Coldplay
Step two: My fake tan would be applied from the night before, so I’d only have to cover up the white patches with sun shimmer and hide the rusty tan smell with ” Tommy girl.”
Step Three: I,ve discovered these debilitating huge knickers called Spanx, (well the cheaper version in Dunnes) it takes me a good half hour to get them on, but my clothes finally fit!
A night out is filled with playing air guitar in my favourite rock bar. While trying to dodge those the guys who have “crazy frog ” as their ring tone. I think back to that huge smile coming towards me and offering me a drink. That grin is so familiar now.
those were the days…
and here we are ……
Saturday night 2017
I’m in my pjs drinking my trusty glass of red. No Makeup required with my hair scrunched up in a messy bun on top of my head. I look to the 3-year-old, the dog and himself, and think thank god I found it! Because honestly, I wouldn’t have the energy to get off the sofa and do it all again. The thought of getting ready to head out right now, the effort (the effort in even going to the kitchen to pour another glass of wine) maybe that’s what getting old is all about..
oh, how life would be so different without hair straighteners, Spanx and Red wine…
and as corny as it sounds
Saturday night is still the highlight of my week, and I’m surrounded by it…. Love