AKA: Why I'm feeling nostalgic now cult classic week is drawing to a close, by Diane...
I remember hearing the buzz about Bridget Jones's Diary almost a decade ago.
In the autumn of 1997, I was a fledgling student of English Language and Bridget Jones, the paperback, had landed in the bestseller charts (not for the last time). "Hmm," I thought, "I might like to read that..." so, cheapo student that I was, I asked for it for Christmas. I loved that it started at Christmas/New Year, with Bridget bemoaning the exact post-Xmas anticlimax I was experiencing. I may never have tasted a sip of Chardonnay (still don't like it), been to Cafe Rouge (I finally made it last year!) or had the pleasure of Una Alconbury's turkey curry buffet (!), but I identified with Bridget, even as I knew she was exaggerated: a satirical version of all women's insecurities.
Most of all, BJ made me feel better about myself. Like her, I'd often woken up fuzzy-headed from a hangover with all my clean tights in my washing basket and the good looking but smarmy men never took ME seriously either... (but good riddance!)
Re-reading BJD recently, I was full of trepidation: would I enjoy it as much a decade on?
Thank goodness, I did. I'd forgotten how funny Helen Fielding really is (Olivia Joules put me off her for a while!) and what a charmingly confused character Bridget is. And I hated Daniel and loved Mark's Darcy-ness all over again. I read it whilst in the grip of a horrible virus, and it was the perfect pick-me-up. It was also a big nostalgia-fest: full of pop culture references from the late '90s, a time I remember very fondly. Remember when the lottery was shown during Blind date? In fact, remember Blind Date?! And Gladiators (ugh - Bridget didn't like it either).
It didn't seem like it then, but it really was a more innocent time, and we were all full of optimism abut the new government and the future of Britain.
I wonder when we'll recapture that again - and what Bridget would think of Gordon Brown...
