Confessions of a Singaporean Spice Girl wannabe: Girl Power in the 90s
I spent a lot of fourth dimension lone in my room equally a 14-year-old teenager. When I wasn't collaging stuff – and thinking how cutting upward words in magazines to create bribe notes was the coolest thing ever – I listened to a lot of music.
We didn't have Internet connection at home until much later on, then my teenage armory was limited: A small collection of cassettes, CDs, magazines, and VHS tapes of whatever I was able to record off MTV Asia.
Heed: 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 best companion was a hand-me-downward stereo with the frequency permanently set to Perfect x, 98.7FM. I would sometimes dial the numbers 6911987 into the family unit phone in an attempt to make a song asking on Say It With Music. I'd often fall asleep drifting off to the Ego Trip.
Then one mean solar day, I heard my calling – literally – on the radio. After Say You'll Be In that location played, came an annunciation about a Spice Girls lookalike, vocal-and-dance competition at HMV.
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It'due south 1997. Hi, my name is Kristal. And I'thou a 14-year-one-time die hard Spice Girls addict.
At dwelling house, my bedroom wall was plastered terminate to cease with Spicemania posters. My school periodical bulged with cutout faces of Sporty, Scary, Baby, Ginger and Posh. It was a portable A5-sized shrine that was also occasionally used for homework.
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Later on schoolhouse at Bedok Interchange while waiting for the bus habitation, pocket money for the week would be spent at the mama shop on bug of Smash Hits magazine – complete with Spice Girls pull-out songbooks and stickers.
When the opportunity came to exist a false Spice Girl for a day, I knew I had to be there.
And then when the opportunity came to be a fake Spice Girl for a twenty-four hours, I knew I had to be there. I volition be there. I'g (I'g) giving you everything (I give you everything). All that joy can bring. Yes, I swear.
So I did requite it everything – as Sporty Spice.
That day, a thick crowd gathered at the centre of the Heeren, where a cherry felt-lined phase covered the atrium fountain.
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Perfect 10 DJ Glenn Ong's vocalism boomed over the speakers as I institute myself surrounded by other kindred spirits – girls with bangs and buns in their hair, wearing variations of Union Jack dresses and thick foam platform shoes.
One daughter wore adidas rail pants, trainers, and a ponytail so tight information technology raised my eyebrows. I was dressed exactly the same, and then nosotros looked like twins delivered in a California Fitness gym. I'm sure she was judging me like I was judging her, masking our performance anxieties.
I filled out a course, wrote downward my song choice, and waited for my proper noun to be 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 woman waved me over to the phase. Taking a deep breath, I climbed up the makeshift platform and made my Spice world debut.
Singing and dancing to Wannabe was such an adrenalin rush. Information technology felt similar zip else existed in that moment. To exist honest, I don't remember annihilation else. It was pure euphoria.
I went dwelling house, thoroughly encouraged by the prize bag of paraphernalia that would further my obsession: Singles of their new releases, more stickers, an incomplete set up of Spice Girls dolls – I was missing Scary and Ginger – and the holy grail of Spice merch, the reason I joined the contest: My very ain Polaroid Spice Cam.
Singing and dancing to Wannabe was such an adrenalin rush. It felt like nothing 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 Daughter, Gen 13 comics, also as singing and dancing. More important, she was Baby to my Sporty.
I would regularly exchange my cutout pages of Emma Bunton for her Mel C stash, and she would let me wear her adidas track pants.
At our school'south show and tell session, I came prepared with my Sporty Spice argent sneaker platforms and Spice Girls Panini sticker volume, while Juliana performed a i-woman-prove every bit Baby and Ginger – complete with thick British accents.
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Afterwards schoolhouse, 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 suspension your ankles in.
We watched idiot box interviews nosotros recorded on VHS, or Spice Earth documentaries on LaserDisc. We memorised every word and worked on getting their accents just correct. Watching every dance movement from Who Do You Remember Yous Are left united states in awe. We dug deeper into our research, discovering new information about these girls, marvelling at how wild and fun they were.
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With Juliana as my partner, I would be unstoppable. Next stop: Spice World domination.
Or at least Pacific Plaza.
The venerable Tower Records had announced its own Spice Girls competition, and we immediately got to work, planning our winning strategy.
Nosotros tried to rope in three more than girls to complete the quintet… merely soon discovered that our particular level of madness and commitment to the Spice crusade was hard to find in other human being beings.
Convincing any of our classmates to be Scary Spice was the most challenging – leopard impress Lycra tops do not work without Mel B'due south signature pilus. Or on Asian teenagers in general.
Eventually, we managed to get together a trio instead – Denise was okay to be Posh. But what we lacked in numbers, nosotros made upwards for with perfect harmonies and intricate footwork.
Juliana – who was at present our mastermind – decided our selection of song and pulled together our choreography, and I was happy to follow her lead.
Her older blood brother ran a makeup studio at Pacific Plaza and got us sorted – my temporary copy of Sporty Spice's rope chain tattoo and "Girl Power" in Chinese characters drawn on with a black Zebra marker. Regretfully, nosotros left out Mel C's aureate tooth. That would have made quite a picture show.
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Thank you to our overly obsessive decision, we were eventually selected over other wannabes and moved on to the finals of the competition – this fourth dimension at the Suntec City co-operative of Tower Records.
We boldly started the performance with an a capella version of Never Give up On The Good Times, earlier moving on to the full-calibration set on of Stop.
We were the merely ones to really sing. And stay in character the whole fourth dimension with our laughable British accents.
We even made it to the evening news on Channel 5. My mum proudly taped it for posterity – but that tape is now long gone.
That night, a complete troop of five girls took the top prize. They were adorably younger, with a Sporty Spice who could actually exercise a backflip. Information technology was impressive and humbling.
My older brother and "cooler" friends didn't understand how I could listen to the music of the Spice Girls and Green Day and Nirvana on echo.
We came in second. Or third. I honestly tin can't call back because information technology didn't matter. Information technology's amazing how supporting each other over a shared love for something tin can eclipse i'south competitive nature to win at all costs. That, I thought, was what Girl Power was all about.
Of form, information technology likewise helped that Tower Records was very generous with the prizes – I finally got my consummate set up of Spice dolls this time.
My older blood brother and "cooler" friends didn't understand how I could listen to the music of the Spice Girls and Greenish Day and Nirvana on repeat.
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Just it was uncomplicated: At a time when teen girls were only getting pretty boys with helium voices and frosted tips marketed in their faces by record companies, the Spice Girls were a argument that girls dominion.
I don't think I fully understood the concept of feminism at the time. Merely on hindsight, the Spice Girls were almost a preliminary guide to marketing the thought of independence to girls who were coming of historic period. They certainly were not the first, simply Bikini Kill wasn't exactly relatable to someone in Secondary two.
The Spice Girls taught us young girls that it was okay to be 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 us to be proficient to our mums.
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I even learnt how to deal with swell boys watching Mel C grab the mic at the Brit Awards in 1997 and yell at Liam Gallagher: "Come and 'ave a go if yous call up y'all're hard plenty!" 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 be loud and different.
4Ever fans learnt the value of female person friendship and the power to grant themselves permission to be strong, honest, loud, and fun all at the aforementioned time. And that meant more to me than words similar "cool" or "edgy".
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The Spice Girls were not afraid to tell the world what they wanted. What they actually, actually wanted. And I really, really wanted to be them.
And just for a while, I zig-a-zig-ah was.
Kristal Melson is an illustrator and artist storytelling beyond various mediums for herself and a diverseness 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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