Confession time: one of my first major crushes was David Bowie in Labyrinth.
I know, I know. But I just can’t help it. My mother raised me on Hollywood classics, in particular those from the 1960s (by age 8 I’d seen most of Doris Day’s work), and honestly? My idea of the perfect man was Dean Jones in 1960s Disney films. (I will still argue to the death about the brilliance of That Darn Cat and The Ugly Dachshund. ) At my friend Diane’s birthday slumber party (Diane, btw, remains one of my primary cultural influences. She’s the first person I knew who ever owned a bird–Winky–and we played Pound Puppies together. She was older and remains, to this day, the reason I think the name Michelle is cool.) Wait what was I saying aside from Diane was a rock star?
Oh right. At my friend Diane’s birthday slumber party we watched Labyrinth. It completely changed my life. David Bowie’s Goblin King, with his tight pants and orb tricks and singing and eye make up–even now I die a little for him. My love of androgyny, my acceptance that anyone outside the box of conformity I concede to David Bowie in Labyrinth. The film also introduced me to Bowie who remains one of my favorite singers in the history of life.
The modern inundation of princess weddings, specifically the ridiculously huge dress, many people believe results from the Cinderella Myth.
While that certainly has an impact on it, there are two other elements I believe should claim their place: Princess Diana’s wedding dress and Jennifer Connolly in Labyrinth. Yes, David Bowie’s character is evil. Yes, he only wants to control her. But damn it, he sings like an angel, wears tight pants, and gives her the fantasy of the spangled ball gown at a masquerade. Even without the theatrics, this is a gorgeous song, darlings.
Swoon. Excuse me, I must put on my red shoes and dance the blues.