A FEW weeks ago, I helped my mum clear a few things from her house. As well as doing a couple of charity shop runs, we dropped a few things off at the local museum. “Ho ho!” I chortled. “You know you’re old when your stuff fits in at the museum.”

But wait. What’s this? Cornwall Museum and Art Gallery has just launched its latest temporary exhibition, and it’s called – gulp – I Grew Up 80s. So there you have it – I officially qualify as a coffin dodger.

Shoulder-pads and neon, Elnett hairspray and Impulse deodorant, Sindy dolls and Space Invaders – the 1980s are definitely having a moment. Stranger Things introduced Kate Bush to a new audience, and the BBC is currently airing a romantic drama called MixTape, in which a past relationship is soundtracked by 1980s bangers.

Then there’s the extensive coverage of Live Aid on its 40th anniversary. I remember it like it was yesterday: spending all day in my room, having meals brought to me while I marvelled at the stellar line-up and taped bits (illegal - ssh!).

Last Thursday’s launch event saw droves of middle-aged former teenagers pass through the museum doors for a full-on disco in the main atrium (now known as the Heart of Cornwall Gallery), complete with lights and a DJ spinning vinyl.

After a spectacular flash mob by Cornwall Dance School, the floor was open to the crowd, who were only too happy to walk like Egyptians, shake imaginary pom-poms to Toni Basil’s Mickey and do the Madness walk (OK, that was just me).

I saw so many friends who had raided their wardrobes for era-appropriate gear. There were Frankie Say and Choose Life T-shirts, man-made fabrics and geometric designs, shell suits but sadly no deely-boppers.

One friend had cut the arms off a jumper and repurposed them as legwarmers. Another was sporting a BOY London T-shirt that brought back memories of a sightseeing trip to London, during which I dragged my mother way off the tourist track so I could buy a cap from the edgy fashion store in homage to my beloved Pet Shop Boys.

More than once I complimented someone on their ‘80s attire, only be told: “This is my everyday wear.” Oops. I turned up in dungarees, a loose homage to the likes of Bananarama and Dexy’s Midnight Runners.

We headed for the Polaroid station, raided the dressing-up rail and struck a “dodgy band” pose. Then it was into the temporary exhibition space to view over 200 pieces of memorabilia covering 1980s fashion, toys, collectables, technology, music and movies.

Think cinema posters (ET, Footloose, The Lost Boys), record sleeves (I’m sure I have that Thompson Twins 12” at home somewhere), magazines (Smash Hits! Jackie!), even the design that might have graced your duvet cover. Add wall-mounted double-deck cassette recorders and toys ranging from Space Invaders to Rubik’s cubes, and you could easily imagine yourself transported through time to a teen’s bedroom four decades ago.

Today, Daughter endlessly revises her online playlists for lengthy car journeys; back then, it was committed to cassette for perpetuity. I’ve got boxes of the things I never listen to, but can’t quite bring myself to jettison.

Several people reminisced about rotary telephones; the unexpected highlight of a recent visit to Geevor was thumbing through a 1980s directory to find all the people we know. The idea of having your name, address and telephone number in a book in the GDPR age seems bonkers, and yet here we all are, perfectly safe.

The atmosphere was joyful, the air buzzing with the sound of 50-somethings asking each other: “Did you have one of those?”

“I’m sure everything was more cheerful in the 1980s,” said the Other Half. I can’t help feeling this was more to do with the bright colours and the absence of any news content - the AIDS epidemic, the miners’ strike, the Falklands War - not to mention the fuzzy glow of nostalgia for one’s childhood, when one didn’t really have to worry about such things.

Daughter admitted she would have liked to grow up in the ‘80s, when the digital age had yet to kick in and ensnare us all in its addictive grasp. Artificial intelligence and virtual reality were the stuff of futuristic Hollywood blockbusters rather than a fact of life – from the 1990s onwards, change came thick and fast.

We can’t turn back time, nor arguably should we; but I challenge you to visit this exhibition and not smile at the memories it invokes.

I Grew Up 80s runs at Cornwall Museum and Art Gallery until October 12. Annual passes for adults cost £10, and under 18s enter free. Summer activities include making your own brick-like Nokia 3120, neon-printing a skinny tie, creating an ‘80s pop collage and making Lego protest boards. And don’t forget your 50p piece for a game of Pac-Man!