You are the stereotypical nerd girl at your high school. You figure this is because you wear a kitten sweatshirt with a crochet collar (and your name is Candi Crimper. And you collect vintage enema bags and store them in your locker. And you laugh like Pee-Wee Herman if he were ever to inhale helium from a balloon blowing machine and sneeze at the same time...and some other stuff). People are soo shallow!
Anyway, one day you wake up, dreading school as usual. When you arrive, everything is different. "Was it 80s day and I forgot?" you think. Everyone is wearing tube socks and saying "Tubular!" The popular girls are wearing huge Thompson twins t-shirts tied up with scrunchies in the corner. These are the girls who normally wear Prada and make fun of your Billy Idol t-shirts. And now they look like a radioactive clown exploded on them: everything is garish and neon. Plus their names have changed. They call each other Traci, Tiffanni, and heart (whose moniker is a symbol, rather like Prince's, who is currently in his career prime.) "You must be the new girl!" says the leader. When you tell them your name is Candi, an amazing thing happens. You are accepted into their circle. You are a popular girl! You also develop a crush on Pat, the boy from the wrong side of the tracks who is an incredible dancer, like that girl from Flashdance. In fact, he kind of dresses like the Flashdance girl, also. But you're pretty sure he's straight, because half the guys in the school wear eyeliner: it's some kind of new wave thing. At this school, which they students call "Too Cool High," you are not hopelessly behind, style-wise. In your old school all these kids would have been crucified.
Anyway, your new found bliss is abruptly threatened when the stereotypical geek boy (pocket protector, plaid highwater trousers, the lingering scent of toilet water from his most recent dunking branding him like K-Mart cologne) explains that he has discovered a space-time continuum that has caused your school to go back to the 80s. He explains that if you do not stand in a specific place at three o'clock the next afternoon (the place where things warp back to normal), the school will be stuck in the 80s forever, and Molly Ringwald will be elected President and paint the White House pink. You are torn, because you might be elected prom queen and get to wear a gown composed of twenty five pounds of taffeta with a bow 3 ft in radius (the poufiness of hair and prom dress bows directly correlate with social status). But if Molly Ringwald becomes President.... The thought is horrifying.