In 1984, at the age of 14, the relentless airplay of ‘Girls Just Want To Have Fun’ felt like an inescapable annoyance. The anthem of carefree, fun-loving girls seemed to blare from every corner, a stark contrast to my own teenage angst. But then, one afternoon on MTV, Cyndi Lauper’s ‘Time After Time’ video appeared, and everything shifted. The vibrant, dancing Cyndi of ‘Girls Just Want To Have Fun’ was gone, replaced by a vulnerable, introspective artist. She wasn’t performing energetic 80s dances this time; she was conveying raw emotion. Her voice, seemingly strained, carried a weight that was profoundly moving. The video’s narrative of heartbreak and longing, culminating in Cyndi’s tearful moments, resonated deeply. This wasn’t the Cyndi Lauper I thought I knew from her initial pop hit; this was someone different, someone real.
Growing up as a misfit in Orange County, New York, feeling isolated was a constant. Cyndi Lauper, in this new light, became an unexpected beacon. She embodied the strength to be different, unapologetically unique in a world that often demanded conformity. Seeing her character in ‘Time After Time’ walk away on her own after leaving her boyfriend was empowering. It instilled a belief that independence and self-reliance were possible, even for someone who felt like an outsider. As a gay teenager in the 80s, uncertain about the future and grappling with feelings of being a ‘freak,’ Cyndi Lauper’s example offered a sense of hope and validation. She, too, seemed to defy convention and societal norms.
This ‘bizarre girl,’ as some might have perceived her, was not only being accepted but celebrated. She was breaking records, achieving unprecedented success with four Top 5 singles from her debut album. Purchasing her LP, the cover art itself was captivating – a whirlwind of limbs, unconventional yet beautiful. People adored her. This widespread acceptance was a revelation, a sign that perhaps there was room for everyone, even those who didn’t fit neatly into the mainstream.
Each song on the album became a daily lesson in building confidence and self-respect. It was a gradual process, but her music was a constant source of encouragement. The arrival of the ‘She Bop’ video was another jolt of excitement. While the song’s meaning was initially unclear, its rebellious energy and playful defiance were infectious. Television and radio became hunting grounds for any glimpse or sound of Cyndi. The question echoed: “Who is Cyndi Lauper, and why is she so UN-USUAL?!” This ‘unusualness’ was precisely her appeal.
Coming from a sheltered Irish Catholic background, Cyndi’s Betty Boop-esque voice and quirky persona seemed entirely authentic. Her involvement with Wrestlemania and her overall unconventional life were readily accepted as part of her genuine character. It all felt believable and wonderfully liberating.
The announcement that Cyndi Lauper’s ‘Fun Tour’ was coming to Middletown, NY, to Orange County Community College, was electrifying. She had truly made it big. Convinced, like many fans, that I was her ‘biggest fan,’ seeing her live felt like a pivotal life moment. The anticipation was immense. My cousin Krissy and my friend John, equally excited, joined in pre-concert preparations, involving copious amounts of colored hairspray on our decidedly uncool hairstyles. Adorned with Cyndi Lauper pins on our jean jackets, we were ready for the experience.
At the concert, seated in the bleachers with my younger brother and our chaperone, my Cyndi-loving Aunt Deb, the atmosphere was electric. It was, without exaggeration, the best night ever. So profound was the experience that I saw her again on the same ‘FUN tour.’ This time, with a teenage’s unwavering determination, I positioned myself closer to the stage. During the performance, Cyndi reached into the crowd, and for a fleeting, unforgettable moment, our hands connected. In that instant, it felt like a personal connection, as if she knew me.
Fifteen years later, in 1999, and on several occasions since, I had the opportunity to meet Cyndi Lauper in person. True to the hopes of any fan, she was genuinely kind. The adage ‘be careful when you meet your celebrities’ often rings true, but with Cyndi, it was the opposite. She is, unequivocally, ‘the real deal.’
Now at 54, the collection of Cyndi Lauper memorabilia has grown into something of a ‘MUSEUM.’ Yet, it represents far more than just collectibles. It’s a living tribute to the artist who, unknowingly, gave permission to simply be myself. Cyndi Lauper in the 80s was more than just vibrant music and dance moves; she was a cultural force that empowered individuality and self-acceptance for a generation.
