I bought my first chess books in 1986. Chess Informant 38, the wrapper designed in a depressing shade of brown, and Batsford Chess Openings, written by Garry Kasparov and Raymond Keene, whose cover too I remember very well, a white background with squares of blue and pink. Pink!
[Both of them are not with me anymore - I gifted away most of my Informants to a chess-lover friend collecting old chess books, and gifted away the BCO once I had made that important graduation from BCO & MCO (Modern Chess Openings) to ECO (Encyclopaedia of Chess Openings). No one will believe me now, but a local hero of a chess player had smugly advised a bunch of us wide-eyed fans, "ECO is for you, BCO is for your opponents!", emphasising the difference in class. No one will believe me now if I say the local hero is still around!]
Of course, all I dreamt of becoming was an opening theoretician, firmly believing that it was pointless to study endgames. After all, I was going to play flawless opening theory in every game, checkmate my opponents bamboozling them in daring attacks following flawless opening theory. Just like every other kid who plays competitive chess, whether they admit it or not.