Holly Willoughby Quotes

I know it's not the '80s anymore, but the '80s are back with a vengeance. Get yourself some neon; whether it's a cute sneaker, a pump or a cross-body bag, add to your wardrobe a pop of neon.

When I was in grade school in L.A., I really loved Cyndi Lauper. I did everything I could to look like her. I had wild outfits and always wore different coloured socks. I wore loads of ribbons in my hair and let them fall in my eyes.

At the time, it all seemed pretty normal. It was okay to have a pink guitar and glow-in-the-dark pants, and play with a drill. 1987, that was the worst year. I think that was the worst year for capes and for hair!

When I think of the 1980s, the only color that comes to mind is a brown, yellowish color. I guess it's coming from my life experience, and it's melancholia and sadness and a bit of joy.

When I was younger, my mum used to dress me in, like, lime green leggings with a matching neon jumper and hair scrunch, so I'd say I've definitely progressed since then in terms of style.

My mother dressed me always very conservatively.

In '87, I was about 9 years old, and so at that point I was wearing, like, fluorescent green T-shirts and acid-wash jeans and leg warmers, and my hair was in a ponytail with a scrunchie and I had the teased bangs that were up in a rainbow shape. It was crazy.

It was in the '80s, so I guess big hair and high bangs. And I had so many gummy bracelets! While we were doing 'Full House,' we were like, 'You know, in 10 years, we're going to look back on this and think this is horrible.' But everyone looked like that!

The worst thing I ever wore, really, was rubber pants, but I don't think that was a cliche. They were just way too hot. Rubber doesn't breathe. I look back on my photos, and I dig them. I think I look really cool.

VH1 does its little '80s retro thing once in a while, all of us in our bad hairdos and unfortunate clothes.

My mum used to always dress me and my sister in matching Laura Ashley dresses. And I'd be like, 'Mum, I just wanna wear my Doc Martens!'

One of my favorite things about working on 'Glory Daze' is getting to wear amazing '80s outfits coupled with fabulously over-the-top hair and makeup. My wardrobe usually consists of colorful sweaters, denim skirts, high-waisted shorts, crop tops, dangly earrings, jean jackets, and, of course, panty hose and shoulder pads.

The first thing I bought that was really stylish was in 1969 when I was eleven. I saved up for a black, grey and white tie-dye grandad vest. It was too big - they weren't catering for kids my age - and hung off me, but I loved it.

As a kid in the eighties, I didn't need much disposable income. I went to Catholic school - white shirt, plaid skirt - so fashion choices were limited. But youth finds a way. For me and my schoolmates, neon argyle socks were a crucial barometer of coolness. Hair ribbons, too, and they didn't come cheap.

Looking back on my 'Full House' wardrobe days, I think I almost regret all of my fashion moments. Oh man, I mean the high-waisted jeans, the cowboy boots, and the tent dresses I used to wear? I don't know what I was thinking.

My first pair of shoes my mom bought me. I was born in 1985 and my mom is the biggest North Carolina/Michael Jordan fan there is, so when those first Jordan's came out those were my first shoes ever. I don't remember but I guess it started from there.

After watching a lot of Adam Goldberg's videos, you can see how easy it is to have simple fun in the '80s.

Interestingly, when I look at pictures of me when I was five or six years old, I think I look pretty stylish.

The mullet has made a comeback, of sorts, and it looks great on young people. But I think if I was walking round with a mullet 25 years later I'd just look like a bloke who's stuck in the 80s.

I try to live my life free of regrets, but I do have one style regret that makes me laugh and cringe at the same time. Mum used to dress my brother and me in bright neon bike pants and big baggy t-shirts that were so long you could barely see our bike pants.

Miami can be super-kitschy at times, and it's fun to embrace that.

When I was a kid, I loved really loud things. My grandmother and I went to the Fulton Mall, and I bought a three-piece suit that was paisley. Paisley over the whole suit. I was 6 and thought it was great. My mother took a photo of me in it, sent it to my grandmother, and burned the suit.

"Have you done your homework?" my mother would ask. "I'll do it later." "You will do it now, young man. I don't want you winding up on the third shift at Flagg-Utica." Flagg-Utica was a local textile plant. Somehow, I never could figure how failing to read three chapters in my geography book about the various sorts of vegetation to be found in a tropical rain forest had anything to do with facing a life as a mill hand. But with enough guilt and fear as catalysts, you can read anything, even geography books and Deuteronomy.

When I was a kid I was the king of mullets. If you’re wearing a rock T-shirt and you’re a fan of Rush – one of the greatest bands in the universe – you’ve got to have a mullet.

For my father the one calamity was that my brother and sister and I never learned to swim. My father, who was very macho, was a strong swimmer and was terribly disappointed to have children who didn't swim. Once when my mother was sitting in a beach chair - I can still see the big umbrella - she called to my father, "Throw them in! Throw them in! They'll swim!" So he did. Then he looked down, and there were the three Sendak children lying perfectly still underwater, not fighting for life!