Overalls

Nothing says en vogue quite like sporting the functional farmer wear du jour. To their credit, overalls did have a certain degree of versatility in the 90s: you had your traditional denim pair and then a few snazzier ones for special occasions. You know, like goat milking.

Overalls inexplicably became a 90s must-have fashion item, prompting suburban kids who had never so much as visited a farm to covet these godforsaken garments. When I was in fourth grade, there was a style decree that on Thursdays, everyone wore overalls. It was sort of our elementary school version of Mean Girls' "On Wednesdays we wear pink". Anyone who was anyone in the fourth grade sure as hell better have showed up to school in overalls on Thursdays. Everyone knew that.

There were all sorts of fun self-expressing variations in overalls. Many 90s kids opted for the very popular one-strap-fastened-one-strap-unfastened look. It kind of said, sure, I like shoveling manure, but only sometimes. There was really no verifiable explanation for engaging in this half-fastened overall behavior as it served no functional purpose. If anything, it was pretty inconvenient to have a strap with an attached eye-piercing piece of metal swinging around your person all day.

My overall-wearing hero, a Miss Alex Mack.

If that wasn't for you, we had a little something for the ladies too. Overalls and sexiness may seem like two highly disparate concepts, but it was all in the shirt selection. If you were planning on wearing a shirt, that is. I got into many, many heated fights with my parents regarding the appropriateness of my wearing a lacy midriff-exposing tee shirt under my Gap overalls. If Kelly Kapowski could do it, then dammit why couldn't I? They've yet to give me a sufficient explanation for that one.

I tried to convince them that it could have been much, much, worse. There were girls up at the junior high showing up to school wearing just overalls and a smile. Okay, that's a total lie, those girls were more than likely surly as hell in their near-naked overalled state, but that's really neither here nor there.

Looking back on this picture of Winona Ryder's near nakedness, I can sort of understand my parents' point of view. I do admire her strap-twisting prowess, though.

Then of course we had the overall/flannel combo, a particular 90s fan favorite. There were many permutations on this highly versatile look, one of the most popular being the classic open-plaid-flannel-over-overalls look. It had a certain casual flair to it that we could all only aspire to achieve as child stylistas. Somewhat less body-flattering but equally widespread was the flannel tied around the waist of overalls look. If you had belt loops on your pair, you could even spice it up a bit and do some intricate woven work. Fancy stuff.

Or if you were into a little more pseudo-rebellion, the double unhooked look was also quite the rage. You may ask yourself why you'd choose to wear overalls if you didn't plan on utilizing their basic functionality, and you would most certainly be right to question this blatant idiocy. In fact, it would be much more convenient to simply don some sportswear separates, but these 90s kids just weren't having it. No, we'd throw on a belt to hold those babies up. No shame in that. Okay, a little shame. Alright, alright, loads of shame.

This particular style of overall wearing was a bit on the controversial side as it allegedly suggested gang affiliation. Indeed, it is still classified as such by many school districts. The Texas Youth Commission still defines the wearing "Overalls, unfastened" as potentially inflammatory behavior. I know, right. They helpfully explain the implications of gang wear as such:

The "gang look" is meant to intimidate those who are not in a gang. Children and teenagers who dress in clothing that resembles gang attire are showing an interest in gangs, will attract the attention of gangs, and could be putting themselves in extreme danger. In recent years children have been shot and killed by gangs simply for wearing gang related clothing. For the safety of your children, it is very important that you do not buy or allow your children to wear any item that gang members use to identify with the gang.

Okay, Okay, so this is a Harajuku girl and not a gang member...but look at how her overalls conveniently only have a single strap! They've evolved!

I'll agree with them that anyone killed for unintentionally wearing gang-themed clothing represents a terrible tragedy, but the tone of this is just absurd. If we thought authority figures were uncool in our day, it seems they've only tightened their grip with all sorts of new rules and regulations that were still in their larval stage during our formative years. It's all vaguely reminiscent of The Man trying to relate to young people but failing completely. It also brings to mind Daria's father Jake Morgendorffer, who once famously said, "I'm up on the issues. Is it a problem with your gang?"

No matter just how jiggy adults tried to be with our phat style, it seemed their condemnation only edged us further into the expanse of dangerous attire wearing. Many of the young people who so loved overalls had more or less never even heard of gangs, they just bought what The Gap told them to and that was that. And if The Gap told me to wear I've-been-working-on-the-railroad style pinstriped overalls, well, thus so it shall be.

Full House

Sometimes you sort of have to wish your real life was anything like the TV shows you grew up with. After all, it's pretty tough to pinpoint those social and nonverbal cues of learning a moral lesson in our own lives. It's so much easier when they put in slow, thoughtful theme music to punctuate the moment exactly five minutes before the end of a thirty minute episode arc. Without those clear-cut auditory guidelines, how are we ever supposed to know when we're gaining moral aptitude? We don't even have a live studio audience to awww for us.

Yes, Full House had the eleventh hour moral-of-the-story moment down to a near-perfect science. It was good, wholesome fun at its finest. Though some of the characters may have briefly flirted with unseemly behavior, their nanosecond-long foray into rebellion was always conveniently quelled by the end of the episode. All a character had to do was consider making a mistake and there was a sturdy trustworthy authority figure at their service to swoop in and give them a bit o' wisdom. Its simplicity was reassuring at the very least; no matter how close anyone veered toward making a poor life choice, it was inevitable that by the end of the episode, the slate would once again be wiped clean.

Though certainly a bit on the hackneyed side, the show was ripe with charm. The premise gave us a wealth of quirky characters, allowing plot lines to shift amongst many key players. We had our hero, squeaky-clean and distinctly un-Bob Sagetlike Danny Tanner, a widower with three young girls to raise. It was all sort of Brady Bunch-esque, only instead of Danny bringing in another half family for reinforcement, he supplemented his parenting skills with two live-in father stand-ins. Yes, that's right: three men raising three little girls. I know, I know. I'll give you a moment to compose yourself as the shock wears off.

This clip from the first episode does a lot of explaining and blank filling-in on major plot points, so I'll let it speak for itself. It also for some reason features Dutch subtitles. Don't ask me why.



In the first episode, we get our first glimpses of a bemulleted Uncle Jesse (John Stamos) and wacky Hawaiian shirt-sporting sidekick Uncle Joey (Dave Coulier). That's right, we've got an OCD talk show host, a struggling rock musician, and a stand-up comedian raising these girls. Can you say hilarious antics? If you can't, maybe you should stick with those Dutch subtitles.

Like any long-running family sitcom, the young stars literally grew up onscreen. I don't know about you, but I'm not sure I'd like my awkward phase forever preserved in TV history for posterity. Just ask Candace Cameron. Sure, she's a knockout now, but we all got to watch her chubby-cheeked side-ponytailed adolescence unfold. Jodie Sweetin, on the other hand, started young enough that she was still adorable when the show began but got to live out her bang-haired preteen years in front of millions. If anything, Mary Kate and Ashley Olsen seriously lucked out. Those monkey-faced little babies remarkably morphed into cute little girls. It was a pretty close call there for awhile in their diaper days.

Seriously, observe this Michelle montage. Would you ever believe these girls could become homeless people style icons and straight-to-video media moguls? Me neither.

As you can imagine, all sorts of hilarious hijinks ensued as these three clueless men tried to bring up three growing girls. The wide array of character personalities and ages allowed us a never-ending supply of varied storylines. We had typical parenting dilemmas, dating antics, sibling rivalries, first days of school, peer pressure, growing-up issues, and every sort of minor moral dilemma you can conjure. The best part of the show was that no one ever seemed to get into any real trouble. They tended to hover dangerously close to temptation only to be quickly reeled in by their dependable family. The formula never failed.

DJ and Stephanie's first day of school in the first season showcases some of the clean-fun shenanigans that characterized this extremely full house.

With the inception of the TGIF Friday night lineup in the late 80s, Full House carved out a great time slot for itself that was conducive to family viewing. The show had not initially been a runaway success, but its new timeslot brought with it a serious following of fans. Suddenly, people couldn't get enough of this show. And could you blame them? It had something for everyone.

For young women ages 12-25, we had John Stamos. For people who liked unfunny stand-up, cut-rate cartoon impressions, and had a lurking interest in seeing about whom Alanis Morisette wrote "You Outta Know", we had Dave Coulier. For anyone seeking out a guiding moral light, we had Bob Saget. Well, Danny Tanner, that is. If you've ever seen any Bob Saget stand-up it's pretty clear that isn't the case for his real life persona.

For the kids we had three distinct age groups of characters with whom to relate as girls and to fall in love with as boys. I personally fell within the Michelle age range category and almost immediately found myself knee-deep in Mary Kate and Ashley promotional merchandise and "Brother for Sale" cassette tapes. I grew up jealous that their everyday lives were an adventure full of strange but endearing adult role models. I'm pretty sure I was not alone in coveting all of Rebecca Donaldson's swingy vests and flowered housedresses, either. I figured it was only a matter of time before I somehow manuevered Becky out of the picture and could claim my rightful place in the Katsopolis family and corresponding closet.

Regardless of my own Full House plotting, the most satisfying part to me remained the predictability. No matter what happened, unless it was a two-part episode you just knew that sappy music was coming on at 7:25. It didn't matter whether they were trying to cook Thanksgiving dinner or taking a trip to Hawaii, by the end of it we were going to learn something and that was that. The characters were flawed in simple, easily remediable ways that lent themselves well to 30 minute segments.

No one ever took hard drugs or committed a felony. There was no danger of taking a sharp left into dangerous territory. It was more like DJ secretly applying Madonna-grade makeup to fit in in junior high, only to learn a lesson about growing up at your own pace. If you weren't feeling even the slightest urge to "aww", you probably weren't watching it right.

Just in case you were curious, here's the aforementioned DJ makeup snafu.

Can't Hardly Wait

What would 80s or 90s mainstream cinema have been without the classic cliche high school movie? It seemed that another teen-centric comedy premiered every other week, each one more ripe with angsty teenage stereotypes than the last. Critics may not have thought much of the genre, but tweens and teens ate it up, upholding the franchise by not just seeing the movie but by buying the soundtrack and quoting the most inane lines over and over again to their friends.

Anyone who's ever been, met, or even seen a teen from afar can tell you that teen movies are absolutely nothing like real life in high school, but they do make for an amusing story. High school movies represent not the way things are but the way we might wish they were. If we desired a slew of 28-year old classmates, that is.

Can't Hardly Wait was a mishmash of every well-worn teen movie cliche, giving us the ultimate cross-section of clearly defined high school cliques as perceived by the middle-aged adults who make profitable teen movies. It's as if they took VHS copies of every John Hughes film ever made, put them in a blender, and minced it on the highest setting. All of the most prevalent teen movie tropes were there: unrequited love with the unattainable girl, revenge of the nerds, reconciliation of friends torn apart by cliquishness, and of course all the jocks, brains, and class clowns you can handle.

Wow, two Third Eye Blind songs in a single trailer. Well played, Columbia Pictures

The only real unique attribute of the movie is its setting and scope: it takes place within a single evening at an end-of-the-school-year graduation party. Flashbacks and awkward staged recap conversations fill in some of the blanks on the context front, but the main focus of the movie is the party. Magically, the whole class got invited to this party, despite the fact that some are obvious misfits or miscreants who have never socialized with the normal kids.

The major storyline of the movie surrounds Preston (Ethan Embry) and his pathetic-but-sort-of-endearing puppy dog crush on popular girl Amanda (Jennifer Love Hewitt). Amanda has been freed from her football player dating chains of her entire high school career, and Preston believes it to be fate. It's kind of cute that he thinks this huge blowout party would be the perfect setting at which to profess his undying love despite the fact that he's never spoken to her. He does, however, seem to have a database of arbitrary memories of their near-miss encounters throughout high school. I'm sorry, did I say cute? I meant creepy.

Don't you like the way the filmmakers assume we're all really slow readers when they put those yearbook-style info boxes up on the screen.

Meanwhile, our wannabe gangster pal Kenny (Seth Green) vows to lose his virginity that night in classic American Pie ultimatum fashion. Kenny prefers to be called "Special K" which we can only assume is his non-Caucasian alter ego. There's really no alternative legitimate explanation for his faux-ghetto dialect, especially considering he's an upper middle class white boy who hails from suburbia central. He adopts this affectation as his allegedly cool persona, but overall it's pretty painful to endure.



On the other end of the social spectrum, nerd William (Charlie Korsmo) and his pi-reciting lackeys are out to bruise the ego and reputation of big man on campus and Amanda's former flame Mike Dexter (Peter Facinelli). Unfortunately, his intricate revenge plans are thwarted by his own intoxication at the party. In this-never-happens-in-real-life-but-we'll-go-along-with-it-for-a-movie style, William becomes the belle of the ball, even gracing us with an impromptu Guns and Roses performance. Because that's a good wholesome message for kids. If you would only loosen up and drink a bit, you'll be cool. Who says teen movies don't have important moral lessons?



Finally, Preston's friend and confidante Denise (Lauren Ambrose) comes along grudgingly for moral support and ends up in a worst-nightmare situation: locked in a bathroom with Special K himself. We learn Denise and Kenny were best friends as children until he got too cool and ditched her. Burn. Ditched by a guy who wears goggles as a fashion statement. That's got to hurt. Anyway, one thing leads to another, and they end up having sex. Like people do, you know. It's pretty much the only option.





All sorts of other crazy shenanigans ensue, shananigany enough to include Amanda getting hit on a by her overly-hormonal cousin. Yikes. Amanda discovers the much-revised Preston love declaration letter on the ground. She has no clue who she is so she looks him up in the yearbook only to realize you totally blew him off just moments before. Amanda pulls a classic rush-to-meet-your-love-right-before-they-leave-forever moment by rushing to the train station, and it's pretty much happily ever after from there on out. We get a little "where are they now?" snippet at the end, and it seems everything worked out just peachily for the good guys and the bad guys got all sorts of comeuppance.

So it may not be the most realistic depiction of high school, but it's certainly an entertaining one. After all, there's a reason they don't make movies about real live high schoolers. They're just not that interesting. Plus, we get a kickass 90s soundtrack in this version, whereas real high schoolers are generally lacking in the theme music department. Show me a real high school student whose exploits are well-timed to Smash Mouth and Run DMC and then we'll talk. s