Harajuku Girls...Teenage Excess.

Gwen Stefani's Harajuku Girls perfumes remind me of the 99p Impulse bodysprays I used to shoplift from Boots, whilst slathered in 17 concealer which gave my acne-ridden visage a kind of surface-of-the-moon crater effect and wearing red parachute pants with the straps hanging off, purchased from Camden Market.
Aaah, puking after the walzters at Pack Monday fair, smoking in the woods behind my friend Alice's house just after the Blair Witch Project was released and scaring ourselves silly when her mum shouted her to come in, avoiding the Youth Centre man who'd catch us leaving through the back entrance of our Friday night cover story [why would 15 year olds want to watch Grease on a 12" TV screen in a room that smelt of socks and damp?] to go to the park and drink the bizarre concoction that my friend-with-the-alcoholic-dad had made from said dad's extensive liqour collection......thanks for the memories, Gwen.