Girl On Rewind

  Friday 2 December 1977 Went to Josephine’s tonight with Andy and honestly, it felt magic . I don’t know how we managed it, but between us we only spent a fiver, and it was £1.50 each just to get in. Drinks must have been cheaper than I realised — I had two brandies, a whisky and orange, and then orange juice later on when I started to feel the warmth of it all. We didn’t need a taxi home either, which probably helped. But money aside, Josephine’s was like walking straight into another world. The lights were all soft purples and pinks, moving across the dance floor like they were alive. Everything shimmered — the walls, the floor, even the people. I kept catching sight of my dress in the mirrors: that blue one, the colour close to Pantone 646, the one with the floaty top layer that curves down just below my tummy. It swings when I dance, and under the club lights it looked almost silvery. I wore my silver locket too, and it kept brushing cool against my skin when I moved. The m...

She is sixteen, turning the glossy pages of   Look Now , where Patrick Mower smiles in print, the same man she saw last night strutting in medallions and chains, calling women “pretty” in the street. Her mother frowns at Colin, sees only arrogance, but the girl sees possibility — a crush, a spark, a chance to be the one admired. “I’m prettier than her, anyway,” she writes, staking her claim against the bikini girl, testing her reflection in the mirror of the magazine. Prince Charles, Colin, Patrick — names shuffled like cards in a deck, partners imagined, roles rehearsed. The diary becomes a stage, where desire and defiance play side by side. Magazines are not just pictures, but portals — to rivalry, to fantasy, to the making of a self that resists her mother’s voice and insists on her own.

  It only takes the first few seconds, that long, slow build of Disco Inferno,  and I’m not in my kitchen anymore. I’m back in the summer of 1978, standing on a sticky disco floor in Lowestoft of all places, wondering how a seaside town managed to feel like the centre of the world for one glorious week. We thought we were terribly grown up, going away “with our parents” but having our own freedom in the evenings. Not quite adults, but rehearsing for it. The sun was hot, we’d finally mastered the art of the perfect tan, and that alone made us behave as if we were on the Riviera. Lowestoft became our own South of France by sheer force of teenage imagination. It was the first holiday where the nights felt more important than the days. The hotel disco thumped every evening, and Disco Inferno — the 12-inch version no less — went on for what felt like hours. Abigail and I danced it right to the last beat, sweating, laughing, absolutely knackered, and certain that no one in the wo...

  There are moments when a song plays and the world tilts slightly — when the first few notes seem to lift a curtain on another life. That’s what happened to me one rainy Saturday afternoon, the radio playing Mark Goodier on Pick of the Pops in the background while I made tea. A few chords, a voice I hadn’t heard in years — and suddenly I was back in a noisy bar, LouLou in the air, watching him behind the counter, hoping he’d look up. It’s strange how songs store memories more faithfully than we do. The lyrics don’t change, but our understanding of them does. What once sounded romantic might now sound reckless. What once felt like heartbreak now just feels like growing up. So that’s what this space is for. To listen again. To remember. To find out what those old songs mean now. Welcome to Girl on Rewind — a collection of Segments , memories, and reflections from the girl I was, and the woman still learning from her. And those memories from other girls I know, too.

  About – Girl on Rewind Every so often, a song comes on the radio and time folds in on itself. I’m 16 again, or 20, or 25 - back in a college bar, on a bus with my Walkman, standing under a streetlight after a night out. Girl on Rewind is about those moments when the past taps you on the shoulder. It’s not just nostalgia; it’s re-evaluation - looking back at the girl I was, the choices I made, the songs that shaped them. And sharing memories by other girls like me, too.  Some posts are Segments  - triggered by a song and built around a memory. Others are quiet reflections: about friendships, love, college days, jobs, nights out, and the strange mix of innocence and courage that comes with youth. It’s all a way of rewinding and listening again - not to get stuck in the past, but to understand it better.