The ‘80s the Golden Era of Clubbing In search of Laura, Dora and Cilla
It is a Friday afternoon at about 15h00 in the late Summer of 1983, I have just finished school for the week, and my mate Paul has collected me in his bright orange “Volla” (otherwise known as a VW Beetle). Having banged the homemade cassette tape on the dashboard (as it had stretched slightly from overplay), we bounced down Jan Smuts Avenue to the sounds of Every Breath you Take by The Police and singing along to Irene Cara’s epic Flashdance.
We are on our way to my house to start getting ready for the club. What lies ahead of us are many hours of primping and preening. I wash my hair in gentian violet so that the slight purple shades will show up later under the black
