Here I am, all tarted up in my Glenn Close/Fatal Attraction get-up for the 1988 Lincoln College 'hop' - that year themed as 'The Movies.'
I saw my ex-boyfriend of three years hook up with girl he married a few years later, whilst I fended off some guy who was dressed as the priest from the Exorcist and picked me a bunch of flowers from the sour sobs he found in the park.
Finally, at decade's close, 1989, the ANZ bank somehow (rather hopefully) decided to employ me as a graduate trainee - obviously thinking that Major English texts and Roman Art & Archaeology majors would come in handy when drawing up home loans.
Huge t-shirts tucked into high-waisted long shorts paired with sockless sneakers were all the rage then, but it wasn't fun pulling off the shoes at the end of an active day. Still, this get up impressed a co-worker (even though he took me to see Rodney Rude at the Norwood Footy Club on our first night out!); an accounting student and another geology guy (you should never meet blokes via one of your female friends).
Dad found me Rodney - born 1971, and considered a good buy at $500 cash eighteen years later. I guess he was - Dad could rest easy knowing that the 'Rod was unable to crank up any faster than 80km an hour, and I had the comfort of knowing that my 'flying turd' would never be lost in the crowd at the supermarket carpark.