The most Queanbeyan things I found while avoiding actual packing
The pros of your parents owning one of those big ass, all-brick-and-concrete, European-inspired houses in Crestwood is that the storage and garage spaces are bigger than most people’s houses. The con, however, is when your family decides to move, and 42 years of family hoarding needs to go.
Unfortunately for Marie Kondo – and my parents – every small piece of nostalgia sparks joy for this elder millennial. Fortunately for you Queanbeyan folk, I found a treasure trove of memorabilia that will either ignite deep nostalgia or bring up memories you hoped to bury along with your Glamour Shotz photos from the 90s. Here are my pieces of absolute gold:
1. Queanbeyan High School library card / Student ID
This 1997-issued student card was very advanced for its time. Although I was a Year 11 student at the time it was laminated and handed to me, the photo is actually from the year before (shame).
A few things of note: the perfected curling-wand hair, complete with side part, is immaculate. I was definitely taking notes from Courteney Cox. Also, did the card ever get used? Like, did I actually borrow books from the library?
I remember borrowing Degrassi Junior High videos – wow. The Zit Remedy, what a fever dream, and I also borrowed a cassette recording device so I could record myself practising broken French for Ms Sloan’s classes. (When it came to speaking their language, I was what the French call Les Incompetent.) The card probably got the most use buying student tickets at Tuggeranong’s Pacific Cinemas – and yes, I have all those movie stubs too.
2. Ticket to a combined QHS and Karabar school social
Nothing was more important on the social calendar of a Queanbeyan teen in the 1990s than a combined high school social. I can actually remember so much about this night. I was in Year 9 (14 years old) and my friend’s older sister had bought us some West Coast Coolers (or was it Sub Zeros?)
Anyway, I drank a total of one drink on the school oval and walked into the Karabar school hall like I was Kim K arriving at the Met Gala. I was wearing baggy denim overalls and a tight ribbed turtleneck top underneath, because I clearly thought I was the missing third band member of Salt-n-Pepa.
I slow danced with a boy I liked to End of the Road by Boyz II Men. He was so stoned he didn’t even notice I was so cool and so drunk: what a disappointment. Unfortunately for the organisers, the night did not resemble a Grease-style 1950s dance as shown on the ticket, but rather a nightclub scene straight out of Save the Last Dance with Julia Stiles.
3. Receipt from Just Jeans Queanbeyan
What a serendipitous find this was, because I had just had an argument with my sister about whether there was a Just Jeans store in Riverside Plaza. As always, I was right—and literally have the receipts to prove it. I remember it being roughly where Sussans is now?
This receipt from 1999 is for a pair of jeans that were $70 (!) – which was a lot of money back then. I must have been raking it in while working at the Franklins smoke desk. This would have been one of the last pairs of classic Levi’s I bought before moving into my Gripp Jeans era. RIP forever size 8 jeans.
4. Mr. Video and Cards membership
Who could forget Chris Anasta’s store, Mr. Video and Cards, on Uriarra Road. My brothers and I would walk up there and stop in at Gombar’s servo on the way for a Push Pop. The iconic car parks were reserved strictly for Hollywood movie stars only: Mel Gibson, Demi Moore and 007.
My brothers were interested in the basketball cards, spending hours just looking at Muggsy Bogues or Larry Bird through the glass before moving on to fight over hiring Mortal Kombat or WrestleMania. As for me, I was probably just there because I had late fees at all the other stores that I couldn’t afford to pay. Although sneaking a peek into the “Adults Only” section at the back of the store was also a cheap thrill.
5. Franklins Fresh receipt/hat
Unlike myself on a Sunday morning shift at the once-iconic supermarket, this receipt is actually looking so fresh. It looks like I got my co-worker to ring up 5 cents so I could get $8 cash out—probably for some hot chips with gravy at Uptown Café or some Australis lipstick at Soul Pattinsons Chemist.
My memories of Franklins are now just a blur of fluorescent lighting and the same three 1980s songs played on a loop. We definitely learned skills for life working there, including knowing the difference between Alpine Lights and Stradbroke Gold. You can read more about my time at Franklins here.
At the bottom of a box, I also found my old hat. How I loathed wearing those trucker hats and leaving every shift with hat hair. But until Uncle Reco brings out a Franklins Fresh hat line, this beauty is still a limited-edition item.
About the Author: Holly Winchester
Part Jennifer Coolidge, part Jennifer Garner (gaudy and geeky), Holly idolises Dolly Parton and Princess Di and loves NRL. When she's not creating killer content, you’ll find Holly at the Maccas drive thru getting her chai latte fix or buying 1990s memorabilia for the walls of her Googong home. Specialist subject: the Woolies carpark.
