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March 15, 2010 | by  | in Opinion |
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Hanson Ruined My Life


Mufti Day at a Catholic Primary School is a rare occurrence that allows usually uniformed children to show off their latest threads. At such a young age, their sense of style tends to revolve around what their older siblings no longer fit or worse: what their parents feel is ‘age-appropriate’. It’s not a child’s fault if they look hideous; should all pre-adolescent fashion disasters be forgiven?

Held on the final Friday of each August, Daffodil Day allows Catholic pupils to abandon their miniature business suits and wear whatevs. Most of us had the day etched into our minds long before it rolled around. I had the good fortune as a child to be born towards the end of August, which guaranteed me the opportunity to wear my annual birthday apparel before the novelty wore off.

In 1998, Daffodil Day came at a time when Hanson featured prominently on the airwaves. Awash with adoration for these long-haired, effeminate brothers from Tulsa, I pleaded with Mrs Bennet for an official Hanson t-shirt. My wish was granted and that year, I wore the first band t-shirt I ever owned to Mufti Day.

It was a fucking disaster.

Looking back, I should have known I was in for the long haul when a disgustingly obnoxious boy with the intelligence quota of a grape informed me in the cloak bay that Hanson ate shit. Being nine years old, I was unaware of this shit-eating business Hanson were employed in, so I simply stared at him, no doubt doing a remarkable impression of a guppy. As the day progressed, I discovered Hanson worked in many colourful industries such as mother-fucking, ass-kissing, and ball-sucking.

By the end of the day, my fragile innocent world was crumbling. I knew things about Hanson that no fan should have to endure, and my heroes were no more. Luckily, Hanson fizzled off the mainstream radio and by 1999 were forgotten. The letter I tragically wrote to Taylor Hanson unanswered, I outgrew the t-shirt, and eventually, the Daffodil Day nightmares stopped. I had moved on.

That was until I came across a familiar song on iTunes. As the song began to filter through the speakers those knees buckled from a long forgotten infatuation, my hands flailed, and a shrill squeal escaped my throat, a noise so high-pitched I almost matched the song’s singer.

It was ‘MMMBop’.

Secretly, for the next three to six days, I relived my childhood, pre-Daffodil Day. There are many bands from the nineties that nowadays are socially acceptable to enjoy. Well, almost. We blame our twitterpated response on a sense of nostalgia when a track from a squeaky-voiced heart throb slithers through the stereo. Let’s be honest though; it’s safe to like these shameful bands now.

Still, we’re not brave enough to wear official merchandise.

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  1. Freya Eng says:

    The day I wore my Hanson t shirt to school was the best day of my life! That’s how you win friends and influence people (when you’re nine).

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