When I was a skinny, callow, freshman in high school (before I'd cannily allied myself with Big male buddies) the 'hard girls' kindly had my back.

 

Those sisters of the street thought me cute (in a non-romantic little-bro way) and I became sort of mascot to a gang of beehived & heavily eye-shadowed girls who smoked, trash-talked, and occasionally cat-fought with better-bred, tartan skirted, Janes. 

 

Ronnie Spector personifies the memory of those girls for me. And although I never got more than an affectionate pash from that tribe of tough & capable girls ... having moved away from Hayward High to the more psychedelic precincts of Canyon High ... there's still an unconsummated part of me that responds to the knowing look and urban ululations of the peerless Ms. Spector.