I hate to give away my age but the 80’s to early 90’s are still lucid to me. Far from rock music, I was a popster at heart. A true Madonna wannabe, I would practice her moves from the Virgin tour, which I recorded on VHS over mom’s endless collection of Chinese soap operas. The Madonna discography was the soundtrack of my life. From my trusty walkman, as I walked to school, she dispensed advice like an amiable, bossy sister. ‘Express Myself.’ was my mantra for overcoming shyness. Being a deeply introverted schoolchild is never easy for anyone, Madonna egged me on until I managed to make some friends.
My sister on the other hand, was a cool rock chick who liked Nirvana and Gun’s and Roses. Decked out in the most hideous plaid shirt, she would hide for hours in her room, music blaring from the stereo. She had an eclectic taste in music from Bon Jovi to Mariah Carey, all neatly stacked up in a CD tower.
Eventually, our collective music disappeared into used record stores but it remains forever in my mind.
