CityView Magazine

CityViewNC.com | 19 A pulsating disco beat and raging hormones created a powerful combination at the Skyline nightclub on top of Fayetteville's tallest building – the sleek, black glass high-rise with sweeping views of downtown – during the sweltering summer of '77. You could feel the excitement, even before entering the elevator to push the 11. As some marketing genius put it, the Skyline is the only place "where you gotta go up to get DOWN!" Sometimes I felt my heart pounding thump-thump-thump … like it was synchronizing with the tunes being spun from Bobby Monaco's DJ booth, causing the walls to shake, as was evident when the elevator door opened, bringing us one step closer … anticipation. I couldn't wait to get inside. Months earlier, when I first started frequenting the club, I'd psych myself on the ride up. "Play it cool, Janet." Aer all, when you're only 17 and your ID is fake, you smile like an angel and act quietly confident. Use your acting skills. Go with good-looking girlfriends – or an older date who has a pricey club membership and slips a bill to the bouncer, ensuring successful entry. Writer Janet Gibson in her "ironing board cover dress," as her girlfriends dubbed it, because of the shiny, silvery fabric. My immediate gang was Ellie, Vanessa and Eva. Ellie had a way of dancing to Earth Wind & Fire songs – it was just a satisfied expression, eyes closed, head slightly bobbing and a mischievous smile. Vanessa tore up the floor doing the line dances, shaking her booty in a way that would make KC and the Sunshine Band blush. Eva was the queen of the hustle. So elegant, she possessed perfect form and posture. A wonder to behold, she is still a class act to this day. Me … I just kind of moved. Mostly, I depended on my outfit and footwear to do the talking. I loved the drama of a tiered skirt that billowed out with certain moves, worn with sky-high red wedgies. Or the crowd favorite, my "ironing board cover dress," as my girlfriends dubbed it, because of the shiny, silvery fabric. e form-fitting, Diane von Furstenberg-inspired "wrap" dress was sewn with love by my mom. I paired it with black hosiery and black patent, strappy stilettos. Ankle straps. I don't know where I got the idea to place a red silk rose in my curly semi 'fro, but it made me happy, even if it prompted Eva's mom to laugh hysterically and point every time she saw my scarlet bloom. e thing I remember most about fashion that summer is the girls had gotten away from the platforms that the guys still embraced. To look taller, I suspect. Many polyesters were Amid the polyester and platforms – the scents of Jovan musk oil and Halston emitting a trail of pheromones to the dance floor – we found unbridled joy and freedom under the rotating mirror balls and flashing lights. We found love. If only for a summer. skyline state Of Mind BY JANET GIBSON True confessions from the inner sanctum of the hottest disco on the planet, circa 1977 Ah, the summer of 1977. ere will never be another one like it. I had turned 18 that spring, graduated from Seventy-First High, and was finally legal to buy my own Skyline membership, along with beer and wine – before "liquor by the drink " passed and age 21 to consume became the law. For us, the Skyline wasn't just a place. It was the place. Our Studio 54. Our "Saturday Night Fever." Our Boogie Wonderland. Mostly, the Skyline was a state of mind. Before life got so complicated and technology robbed us from living in the moment. No computers, cellphones or social media. Which was a good thing. Aer all, had our Skyline antics been posted in a modern-day world, it probably would have derailed some of our careers before they ever got started. Oh, and it was so much fun. Diverse crowds came from everywhere. Some were already in college or the military. Several worked at the mall, for family-owned businesses, or making tires at Kelly Springfield, now Goodyear. Many of us were fresh out of area high schools, discovering each other for the first time as we joyfully came together in line dances like the Electric Slide and the Bus Stop. We were young and skinny – and we could MOVE! Sweating off five pounds in an evening was child's play to us.

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