Home > Men fashion > Dear Donny Osmond, I Love You

Dear Donny Osmond, I Love You

It was 1972 and Donny Osmond’s “Puppy Love,” was blowing up the charts. I was a primary grader, about to show S, and couldn’t get sufficient of it. Luckily, the track was on heavy rotation on the radio station my mom favored and that she listened to in our kitchen as she made my brother and me breakfast or in her automotive as she drove us round to get fuel or decide up a head of lettuce.

When Donny’s candy voice hit the airwaves, all dialog within the automotive or across the desk ceased whereas I sang alongside. “And they name it pet love.”

I was not a type of performing, middle-of-consideration sort of youngsters. Quiet and critical, I most popular sitting alone throughout recess and drawing footage of horses.

So this sudden have to burst into track was greeted by my mom with nice fan fare. She was recognized to faucet dance by means of the primary flooring of our home and spent Sunday afternoons watching forties film musicals so she should have figured her affect was lastly beginning to take impact.

It wasn’t lengthy earlier than I transferred a love of the music to a love for the singer. Donny was cute, in a means that was doll-like and acquainted. Big eyes, even greater tooth, and a hairdo in contrast to that of a lot of the boys I knew, together with my brother. My mom referred to as my brother’s haircut the bowl reduce, like somebody had positioned a small mixing bowl over my brother’s blond head and simply reduce across the edges. Donny’s hair was thick, like my brother’s, however darkish brown and coiffed extra rigorously, his waves framing his face just like the male mannequins at Lord & Taylor.

“What occurred to Bobby Sherman?” my mom ultimately requested.

My traitor’s coronary heart was on the transfer. Before Donny, I had fallen arduous for the hair-feathering and neckerchief-sporting Sherman after seeing him visitor star on The Partridge Family. I’m nonetheless unsure what a six-yr-previous woman sees in a person with an Adam’s apple aside from on an aesthetic degree. Perhaps Bobby was unthreatening in his delicate features and dimples. Perhaps one in every of my babysitters had come over with a Teen Beat journal and advised me she favored him greatest. More than doubtless, one in every of my associates had a Bobby Sherman lunchbox and I had gazed upon his face each day and, in the identical method a duck patterns on its mom, I had latched onto Bobby Sherman.

My mom understood devotion. When I discovered a bunch of previous Elvis Presley forty five’s in my grandparents’ basement, she advised me that in junior highschool she had been the Connecticut chapter president of the Elvis Presley fan membership. And even after her father punished her when she advised him she thought Sidney Poitier was good-looking (a negro!), she refused to forsake her man, hanging footage of him in her bed room and buzzing “To Sir With Love” every time my grandfather was inside earshot.

My mom additionally understood the fickleness of youngsters and particularly the altering winds of her personal daughter. I was well-known for less than wanting one factor – to put on a specific pink wool gown for days on finish or to eat oatmeal at each meal for a month straight – solely to vary course and reject the issues I had come to like solely.


For now, I beloved Donny Osmond and my mom supported this craving unconditionally.

In reality, my mom inspired my crush on Donny by encouraging what would ultimately take seed and switch into an enduring love: writing.

“You ought to ship him a letter,” she advised me. “I guess he’ll write you again.”

That was all I wanted to listen to. We went to King’s, the native 5 and dime retailer, to pick a field of stationary, purple in fact, which Donny revealed to be his favourite colour in a a lot poured-over “Teen Beat” interview. Finally, my mom and I sat right down to compose this letter. I wrote all that was in my six-yr-previous coronary heart:

Dear Donny,
I love you.

My letter-writing marketing campaign continued every day and for months and thru a number of bins of stationary–however the letters have been all the time the identical.

Dear Donny,
I love you.

Every night time after dinner my mom and I would sit down to write down. It all the time began with the identical query.

“How do you spell ‘Dear’?” I’d ask my mom, who would typically use my letter-writing time to shine her nails with a number of coats of Revlon’s Love that Red, her trademark colour. After she spelled it out, I’d glide over the phrase “Donny” till the subsequent roadblock. “And how do you spell ‘love’?” Once she spelled that phrase for me, I might refer again to it in my signal-off, because the phrase appeared twice in my letter; one of the best phrase to convey the whole lot I needed to say. After a couple of weeks, I not wanted to ask my mom easy methods to spell phrases, however she nonetheless sat subsequent to me each night, both sprucing her lengthy, oval nails or simply watching me at work. The radio was continually on and if we heard “Puppy Love,” we appeared up from our respective duties and smiled at each other.

“That’s an excellent signal!” my mom all the time stated. And I believed her.

This submit is an excerpt from Alter’s anthology, ” Crush: Writers Reflect on Love, Longing, and the Lasting Power of Their First Celebrity Crush” in shops now.


Relationships Motherhood Writing The Partridge Family Donny Osmond


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