In which Vole catches up with popular culture

In mourning for my wrecked MacBook, I beached myself on the sofa last night, unable to read, knit or craft matchstick models of Notre Dame (my usual nocturnal activities), and found myself watching The Breakfast Club after Water Lilies (which is less immediately interesting because it's proper art) had finished.

I'd never seen it before - it's one of those teen movies apparently beloved of my generation, but having parents who didn't take us to the cinema and believed that television was only worthwhile if it screened an omnibus edition of that week's Angelus, it passed me by.

What did I think? Emotionally manipulative, all the psychological depth of a fortune cookie, incoherent narrative and deeply cynical. By and large, I quite enjoyed it, until the fateful moment when Ally Sheedy's character was made over from a gamine goth to horrible 80s suburban 50s beauty queen - and this was presented as a good thing, the start of a wonderful new life! Ugh - hegemony strikes again.

I mean really, from this:

to this?