Confessions of a Singaporean Spice Girl wannabe: Girl Power in the 90s
I spent a lot of time alone in my room as a 14-year-old teenager. When I wasn't collaging stuff – and thinking how cutting up words in magazines to create ransom notes was the coolest thing always – I listened to a lot of music.
We didn't accept Internet connexion at home until much afterward, so my teenage armory was express: A small collection of cassettes, CDs, magazines, and VHS tapes of whatever I was able to record off MTV Asia.
Listen: My Singapore Life: Confessions Of A Singaporean Spice Girl Wannabe, read past Karen Tan
Confessions of a Singaporean Spice Girl wannabe
There was also the radio. My all-time companion was a hand-me-down stereo with the frequency permanently fix to Perfect x, 98.7FM. I would sometimes punch the numbers 6911987 into the family phone in an try to make a song asking on Say It With Music. I'd often fall comatose drifting off to the Ego Trip.
Then one twenty-four hour period, I heard my calling – literally – on the radio. After Say You'll Be There played, came an proclamation about a Spice Girls lookalike, song-and-dance competition at HMV.
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It'southward 1997. Hello, my name is Kristal. And I'm a 14-year-onetime die hard Spice Girls aficionado.
At home, my bedroom wall was plastered end to stop with Spicemania posters. My school periodical bulged with cutout faces of Sporty, Scary, Infant, Ginger and Posh. It was a portable A5-sized shrine that was also occasionally used for homework.
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Later school at Bedok Interchange while waiting for the autobus home, pocket money for the week would exist spent at the mama store on issues of Smash Hits magazine – complete with Spice Girls pull-out songbooks and stickers.
When the opportunity came to exist a fake Spice Girl for a day, I knew I had to be in that location.
And so when the opportunity came to be a faux Spice Girl for a day, I knew I had to be there. I will exist there. I'm (I'grand) giving you everything (I give you everything). All that joy can bring. Yes, I swear.
And then I did requite information technology everything – as Sporty Spice.
That solar day, a thick crowd gathered at the centre of the Heeren, where a ruby-red felt-lined phase covered the atrium fountain.
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Perfect x DJ Glenn Ong'southward voice boomed over the speakers as I found myself surrounded past other kindred spirits – girls with bangs and buns in their pilus, wearing variations of Matrimony Jack dresses and thick foam platform shoes.
1 daughter wore adidas rail pants, trainers, and a ponytail so tight it raised my eyebrows. I was dressed exactly the same, then we looked like twins delivered in a California Fitness gym. I'm sure she was judging me similar I was judging her, masking our performance anxieties.
I filled out a form, wrote down my song selection, and waited for my proper noun to exist announced. I killed time past looking at CDs, worried that I might bump into someone – anyone – who knew me.
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Eventually, a adult female waved me over to the stage. Taking a deep jiff, I climbed upwards the makeshift platform and fabricated my Spice world debut.
Singing and dancing to Wannabe was such an adrenalin rush. It felt like nothing else existed in that moment. To be honest, I don't recollect annihilation else. Information technology was pure euphoria.
I went home, thoroughly encouraged by the prize bag of paraphernalia that would further my obsession: Singles of their new releases, more stickers, an incomplete set of Spice Girls dolls – I was missing Scary and Ginger – and the holy grail of Spice merch, the reason I joined the competition: My very own Polaroid Spice Cam.
Singing and dancing to Wannabe was such an adrenalin rush. It felt like nil else existed in that moment.
Viva Forever, I was hooked. And I wanted more.
Lucky for me, I had a friend from school who shared my mania. Juliana and I had a lot in common: A love for Tank Girl, Gen 13 comics, too equally singing and dancing. More of import, she was Babe to my Sporty.
I would regularly exchange my cutout pages of Emma Bunton for her Mel C stash, and she would allow me wear her adidas track pants.
At our school's show and tell session, I came prepared with my Sporty Spice silver sneaker platforms and Spice Girls Panini sticker volume, while Juliana performed a one-adult female-prove every bit Baby and Ginger – consummate with thick British accents.
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After school, I'd go to her business firm and she'd let me raid her closet – which was gloriously stocked with outfits for every single Spice. Including towering platform shoes to pause your ankles in.
Nosotros watched boob tube interviews we recorded on VHS, or Spice World documentaries on LaserDisc. We memorised every word and worked on getting their accents just right. Watching every dance motility from Who Exercise You Call up You Are left us in awe. Nosotros dug deeper into our research, discovering new information well-nigh these girls, marvelling at how wild and fun they were.
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With Juliana equally my partner, I would be unstoppable. Next end: Spice World domination.
Or at least Pacific Plaza.
The venerable Tower Records had appear its own Spice Girls competition, and nosotros immediately got to work, planning our winning strategy.
We tried to rope in iii more girls to complete the quintet… merely soon discovered that our item level of madness and commitment to the Spice cause was hard to observe in other human beings.
Convincing whatsoever of our classmates to exist Scary Spice was the virtually challenging – leopard impress Lycra tops practice not work without Mel B's signature hair. Or on Asian teenagers in general.
Eventually, we managed to assemble a trio instead – Denise was okay to be Posh. But what we lacked in numbers, we made up for with perfect harmonies and intricate footwork.
Juliana – who was at present our mastermind – decided our pick of song and pulled together our choreography, and I was happy to follow her lead.
Her older brother ran a makeup studio at Pacific Plaza and got us sorted – my temporary copy of Sporty Spice'due south rope chain tattoo and "Daughter Power" in Chinese characters drawn on with a blackness Zebra marker. Regretfully, we left out Mel C'due south gilded tooth. That would have made quite a flick.
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Thanks to our overly obsessive decision, we were eventually selected over other wannabes and moved on to the finals of the contest – this time at the Suntec Metropolis branch of Tower Records.
We boldly started the performance with an a capella version of Never Surrender On The Good Times, before moving on to the full-calibration assault of Stop.
We were the only ones to actually sing. And stay in character the whole time with our laughable British accents.
We even made it to the evening news on Aqueduct 5. My mum proudly taped it for posterity – but that tape is at present long gone.
That night, a complete troop of five girls took the elevation prize. They were adorably younger, with a Sporty Spice who could really practice a backflip. It was impressive and humbling.
My older blood brother and "libation" friends didn't understand how I could listen to the music of the Spice Girls and Green 24-hour interval and Nirvana on repeat.
We came in 2d. Or third. I honestly tin can't call up because it didn't matter. It'south astonishing how supporting each other over a shared love for something can eclipse ane's competitive nature to win at all costs. That, I idea, was what Girl Ability was all about.
Of form, information technology besides helped that Tower Records was very generous with the prizes – I finally got my consummate fix of Spice dolls this fourth dimension.
My older brother and "cooler" friends didn't understand how I could heed to the music of the Spice Girls and Green 24-hour interval and Nirvana on repeat.
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But information technology was simple: At a time when teen girls were merely getting pretty boys with helium voices and frosted tips marketed in their faces by record companies, the Spice Girls were a statement that girls rule.
I don't think I fully understood the concept of feminism at the time. Just on hindsight, the Spice Girls were almost a preliminary guide to marketing the thought of independence to girls who were coming of age. They certainly were non the starting time, but Bikini Impale wasn't exactly relatable to someone in Secondary 2.
The Spice Girls taught us young girls that it was okay to exist loud and different. They encouraged us to dream big and not settle for the status quo. Their lyrics called out sexism, promoted consent, and reminded the states to be good to our mums.
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I even learnt how to deal with bully boys watching Mel C grab the mic at the Brit Awards in 1997 and yell at Liam Gallagher: "Come up and 'ave a go if you think you lot're difficult enough!" He had said he wouldn't be attending because he would, quote, "smack" the Spice Girls if he saw them.
The Spice Girls taught us young girls that it was okay to exist loud and different.
4Ever fans learnt the value of female friendship and the power to grant themselves permission to exist potent, honest, loud, and fun all at the same fourth dimension. And that meant more than to me than words like "absurd" or "edgy".
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The Spice Girls were not afraid to tell the world what they wanted. What they really, really wanted. And I really, actually wanted to exist them.
And just for a while, I zig-a-zig-ah was.
Kristal Melson is an illustrator and creative person storytelling across diverse mediums for herself and a diversity of brands.New episodes of My Singapore Life are published every Sunday at cna.asia/podcasts.
Source: https://cnalifestyle.channelnewsasia.com/entertainment/my-singapore-life-confessions-spice-girls-wannabe-242316
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