There probably hasn’t been a movie release that I’ve looked forward to more than that of Pretty in Pink. In 1986, I was obsessed with the color. Love’s Baby Soft was my signature scent. All of my Merle Norman makeup that I had just been allowed to wear that year came in some shade of it. I wanted to grow up and be a Mary Kay salesperson so that I could tool around in a pink Cadillac.
When the movie came out in February of that year, I believed it was about me. I was Andie, Molly Ringwald’s character. Garrett, my crush from English class who was a foot shorter than me, was Blane. I would wear pink, dammit, to my 8th grade dance (like prom but for pipsqueaks) and kiss the boy.
Blane was played by Andrew McCarthy, and I loved him. I loved his boxy jackets, that little mouth, those twinkly eyes. For about 95 minutes. Until he kissed Andie in the rain at the end. You can see the kiss in slow motion in this video:
When I saw this in the mall movie theater, I almost regurgitated my popcorn. I couldn’t quite put my finger on why, but Andrew McCarthy was a gross kisser. I don’t know if it was the way he used his femme-y hands, or the fact that his face seemed to disappear when he mashed it against Molly Ringwald’s, or that he looked like he was kissing sideways, or that he kinda laps at her like a golden retriever. It was just…yick.
Much to my dismay, that scene was reenacted last night in the premiere of Lipstick Jungle, i.e. Sex and the City-on-downers. Lindsay Price’s character, Victory Ford, a clothing designer, becomes involved with a billionaire businessman played by Andrew McCarthy. After he sends his private jet to pick her up from a disastrous trip to Tokyo, they make out on the tarmac.
(Interesting fact about Lindsay Price: her mother is Korean, her father is German-Irish. Her mother was adopted by her father’s family, and they grew up as siblings. Then they later married and had kids. Again, eww.)
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