Last night I forced Dave to watch the 1959 classic Sandra Dee movie Gidget, again.  Not only is it one of my all-time favourite movies, it is also part of the genesis for much of the disappointment in my life.  Gidget is directly responsible for the fact that ¾ of the pants in my wardrobe are capris, and takes part of the blame for my naive teenage notions of dating and romance.  Like many other women of my generation, I was desperately waiting for Moon Doggie to show up and offer me his fraternity pin. (It should be noted that I now wear the fraternity pin my grandfather gave my grandmother on a chain around my neck.  It's the only one I ever got.)

I also blame my mother and her girlfriends for my rose coloured view of teenage romance.  (Yes! Another thing to blame on my mother - woo hoo!) My mother came from the era of poodle skirts,  club jackets, and Peter Pan collars. When girls got married so that they could have the same bad teenage sex that their children would go on to have, sometimes indiscriminately,  in high school some 20 years later.  My mother and most of her friends married their high school sweethearts, either right out of high school, or in a couple of cases, later in life.  Not that all of these marriages worked out mind you, but they fulfilled the fantasy that Gidget laid out before them.

Through the years my mother, unlike me, has remained friends with all of her high school girlfriends.  Most of them are my "aunties" and I consider their children to be my cousins.  Our lives have been enmeshed over the years, and I often see them as much as I do my own family.  For example,  I currently rent my home from my "Aunt" Sherrie.  It is the home in which she an my "Uncle" Dave, who met in high school, raised my "cousins" Gina and Krista.  When I host family barbecues my "Aunt" Muffy, "Uncle" Randy, and "Auntie" Dianne are frequently in attendance.

The Athenas

Many of the stories that I associate with the teenage life I should have had, and would have preferred, are those told by my mother and my "aunties".  The girls all belonged to a club called The Athenas and the boys were in The Deacons or The Dukes.  They wore club jackets and had group parties, many of which took place at my grandparent's house.  (Let's just say we're all grateful the living room couch has long since been reupholstered.)

One of the best stories of my mother's youth  is the one of The Four Coquettes (later called The Four Cal-Quettes).  This was an all girl singing group formed by four of my "aunties": Judi, Muffy, Carkie, and Mary Ann.

The Four Cal-Quettes in a 1962 publicity photo

The girls had a number of popular songs in 1961 that appeared at the top of the pop charts.  One of my favourite tales is of the time that they appeared on Dick Clark's American Bandstand, and my mother and one of my Auntie Diannes (I have two), always supportive and never bitter about the girls' fame, sent them a congratulatory box of chocolate covered horse shit candy that they purchased in a local joke shop.

The ladies have recently discovered that their music is available on You Tube and the links and nostalgic emails have been flying back and forth.  Below is a clip of their chart topper and long lost hit - Sparkle and Shine. 

Of course, imitation being the highest form of flattery, it's great fun to know that a popular Spanish retro band, The Sparkles, have done a cover version of Sparkle and Shine, bringing the infamous Four Cal-Quettes to a new generation and giving them a little international flare.

Even if the myths of the era of girl groups and voluminous crinoline lined skirts didn't necessarily deliver for those of us who grew up in their wake, they did give us AquaNet and enduring dance music. Now mind you, I did eventually find my own Moon Doggie, even if he doesn't surf and didn't belong to a fraternity, and I do look quite adorable in capris, so it seems that my mother and Gidget didn't screw me over too badly.