Posts Tagged ‘90s’
As some of you may have noticed, I am totally, butt crazy in love with Clueless. I love it like Dee loves Murray, like Travis loves those egg McMuffins, like Christian loves Tony Curtis.
It taught me so much – that it’s one thing to spark up a doobie and get laced at parties, but it is quite another to be fried all day. I learned that grades are just a jumping off point to start negotiations, that girls at NYU aren’t at all particular, that Ren and Stimpy are way existential, and that Hamlet didn’t say “To thine own self be true,” that Polonius guy did.
From the age of 10 on, I have looked to Cher for guidance.
Apparently, I am not alone.
This is called the “Valley Party Dress.”
….
RIGHT?? How freaking awesome is that?
ModCloth Naming Committee, I have to give you snaps. Cher’s Alaia dress is way iconic, and this dress is equally worthy of refusing to get on the ground while being mugged. Will someone ask if you prefer “fashion victim” or “ensembly challenged.” As if!
Halloween is only six weeks away. If you are blonde and are not going dressed as Cher this year – well, it all boils down to one inevitable conclusion. You’re just totally clueless.
Cher’s closet and Paul Rudd not included.
ModCloth Valley Party Dress – $49.99
A few weeks ago, I walked into American Eagle and happened to look up at a mannequin. To my horror, it was wearing overalls. Full-length overalls.
The minute I got home, I searched the website for a picture so I could write about them. I couldn’t find them online. I figured that maybe it hadn’t gone onto the website yet, and if I waited a couple weeks, the overalls would turn up.
They never appeared.
I began to wonder if this was some fever dream; a fashion hallucination. Maybe a year in the bad clothing business is all I can take. Maybe it finally broke me, and for the rest of my life, I would have post-traumatic stress flashbacks to the Aclogalypse.
But then, as I was surfing Urban Outfitter’s website this morning, I found this.
It’s not direct evidence. It’s not the monster’s carcass. But it’s the bite on the wing of the plane, and that’s close enough for now.
The Gap’s overall dress was not an isolated incident. It’s a movement. I can’t say for sure how it began, but my hunch is it went something like this:
Designer 1: Hey, remember when we convinced everyone that Hammer pants were a good idea?
Designer 2: Oh man, that was awesome. We should do something like that again.
Designer 1: Yeah, but what?
Designer 2: I don’t know … something retro, like the Hammer pants, but more juvenile. Something nostalgic.
Designer 1: Nostalgia – it’s delicate, but potent. Teddy told me that in Greek, “nostalgia” literally means “the pain from an old wound.” It’s a twinge in your heart far more powerful than memory alone. This device isn’t a spaceship, it’s a time machine. It goes backwards, and forwards… it takes us to a place where we ache to go again. It’s not called the wheel, it’s called the carousel. It let’s us travel the way a child travels – around and around, and back home again, to a place where we know are loved.
Designer 2: So, overalls?
Designer 1: That works. Let’s go celebrate with hookers and blow.
Fin.
And that’s (roughly) how this happened:
These are magical proportion overalls. From the front, they seem too big. But is it just me, or do these look almost comically small on her from behind? It looks like she stole them off a small child boy.
I can’t imagine that these would work wonders on anyone’s figure. I can see a pair of overalls being kind of spunky and adorable on one of those hipster girls who wear single earrings and those big New Wave hats. So, essentially, everyone on Lookbook.
But this trend isn’t solely targeted toward the handful of people around the globe who are so sartorially gifted that they can belt a garbage bag and make it look good. If it’s in America Eagle, that means they expect enough fresh-faced, absurdly happy teenagers to buy this.
And buy it they will. My only hope is that, in 20 years when their children see their yearbook pictures, they laugh hysterically and ask why their mom was dressed like a farmer. Then the children will hop in their hovercrafts and fly to the virtual mall to hang out with their robot friends. Because it’s the future, and as a society, we’ve moved beyond overalls and Hammer pants. Granted, we’ll all be wearing pointy dresses, but I think that’s a small price to pay for getting to walk our dogs on floating treadmills.
I’d apologize for how quickly this post got weird, but it’s hard for me to stay logical when we’re dealing with overalls. It’s one of my great failings in life.
Urban Outfitters BDG Cord Overalls – $68
Today is a day of great importance: it is 9/02/10. Understandably, anyone alive during the early 90s (or the five teenagers who watch the remake) are in a tizzy over this. Even the city of Beverly Hills is going all-out, with a celebration the likes of which has only been seen in the Math club on Pi Day.
True story: the year was 1994. I was at an all-girls camp on the east coast, and we had to send three letters a week home in order to get Candy Canteen. My counselor confiscated my letters and refused to let me have my weekly sugar fix because – and I quote – “90210 is not a real zip code.”
I had to have the head of the camp show her my records as proof that yes, it was a real zip code.
I guess it’s fitting that the 90s have come back with a vengeance in the past year, just in time for such an iconic date. Walking into Wet Seal has become a surreal experience; much of their stock looks the same as when I first shopped there.
All it’s missing are some ripped tights and a pair of Docs. That would have been my dream outfit when I was 8.
Yup. Seeing them still fills me with a juvenile giddiness that I can only describe as “Oh my god, Snick is starting!”
The 90s are everywhere. It’s hard to escape the shoulder pads and high-waist pants that we all thought had been laid to rest with the advent of low-rise jeans and LFO’s anti-Chinese food diatribe, “Summer Girls.” But the 90s are back, and have been for a while. It’s a truth that must be accepted – the 90s are not just an era any more, they’re an industry.
Tell me you wouldn’t have seen this outfit on an extra in a “Blossom” episode. Pair it with a giant hat, and I think you’ve got a hell of a Halloween costume on your hands.
This 90s resurgence – because this is all about me – makes me feel old. Like, crazy old. The best movie ever made is 15 years old – which means that the movie is the same age as Tai. There are teenagers with drivers licenses who have never seen a map of the Soviet Union. I was in the car the other day alongside a 30-something year old guy who was blasting “August and Everything After” while his two kids played with their iPhones. Kelly Taylor became a teacher at West Beverly. When did we all grow up?
In truth, 90210 was a little before my time – I was born in 1985, so the trials and tribulations of the Walsh clan went over my head. That’s why, to me, what’s most off-putting about this 90s nostalgia is what I saw at Hot Topic the other day:
It was one thing when Busted Tees sold Beets t-shirts. But when a major retailer thinks there’s enough of a market for nostalgia gear – suddenly, I feel bad for rolling my eyes when my dad would hear Cream on the radio and say, “This really holds up. It sounds like it could have been made yesterday, doesn’t it?”
Sorry, Dad. I understand now. I’ll be saying the same thing about Toad the Wet Sprocket in five years.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go watch Clueless and Empire Records to console myself.
Side note: is it just me, or does Reptar kind of look like David Letterman?
Wet Seal Plaid Knit Dress – $16.99
Forever 21 Satin Rosy Skirt – $7.99
Hot Topic Doug Let It Beet T-shirt – $23
Hot Topic Rugrats Retpar Die Cut Backpack – $30
Hot Topic Salute Your Shorts Camp Anawanna Tee – $22
When I was a nine, Clarissa had the most amazing wardrobe ever (second was Cher from Clueless, third was Claudia Kishi). As far as I was concerned, the apex of style was this:
The way she carries the polka-dot theme through both the bike shorts and the vest? Inspired.
I did the best with what I had – from the ages of six to ten, never was I without a headband. Separating me from my bike shorts was near impossible. I didn’t have the giant vests or globe earrings, but dammit, I was doing my best.
But I knew that one day, when I was an adult, I would be able to buy my own clothes. Freed from my mother’s tyrannical requests (“It’s raining, maybe you should wear pants instead”), I would put together the ultimate Clarissa wardrobe. I would also be able to stay up past nine and eat cake for dinner.
Here’s the thing: Yes, Mini-Amanda had a master plan.
Then I became an adult and realized that it was a ridiculous plan (except for the cake for dinner part. Tastiest. Plan. Ever.). But otherwise, a ridiculous plan.
Apparently, other little boys and girls had the same plan, except they never became jaded. They just became designers, and produced things like bike shorts with lace panels.
David Lerner Lace Front Bike Shorts – $88 $44
Speaking of 90s …
I was surfing the Urban Outfitters website, and OH MY GOD THEY STILL MAKE MANIC PANIC.
… and I just realized that like, half the people who read this are in high school and therefore probably do not understand the significance of Manic Panic. And now I feel old. Where are my prunes and Clarissa Explains It All dvds?
Since I’m back in college and don’t need to be taken seriously, I’ve wanted to put pink highlights in my hair. Of course, the rational side still recognizes that it would involve bleaching and damaging my hair, since it’s so dark. Plus, my hair grows really fast, so it would only look good for a few weeks before it started to grow out and fade.
But this discovery is the little cartoon devil sitting on my shoulder.
Manic Panic Hair Dyes – Select colors at Urban Outfitters – $10
Manic Panic Hair Dyes – All colors at manicpanic.com – $12
Back in the beginning of the 80s resurgence, I would grouse about how I couldn’t wait for the fashion world to move onto the 90s. Finally I’d be able to break out my flannels and Docs again.
Guys. This was not what I meant. Of the myriad fashions of the 90s – the babydoll dresses, the flannel, the boots, the slap bracelets – why did The Gap choose to reissue the very same overall dress I owned back when I was 8? The only difference is that I wore it with one strap undone, because I saw Clarissa do it once. But seriously, why?
Oh right. Because they’re The Gap, and rather than trying to be a successful clothing chain, they’ve decided to go for the title of “Most Tragic Brand Destruction Since Express Stopped Selling Button Covers.”
The Gap Jean Overall Dress – $69.50
