Thursday, August 18, 2011

Guest blog: Umbro Shorts

Welcome back to our exciting series of Children of the 90s guest blogs! We have several pieces in the works and we are still reviewing applications, so if you are interested in contributing to Children of the 90s, shoot us an email to childrenofthe90s@gmail.com!

I was so excited when one of my very favorite bloggers contacted me wanting to write a guest post for Children of the 90s. For those of you who don't know Sha
nnon, she is an extremely dedicated fellow 90s enthusiast whose primary focus is a laserlike focus on the Sweet Valley series in her Sweet Valley High blog.

Long-time readers may also recognize Shannon from her contr
ibution to last year's Glamour Shot Challenge. In case you missed it, here's one of her awesome airbrushed photos from her mall session circa mid-90s:

A little about Shannon, from the SVH guru herself:

When I’m not sitting around feeling regretful about my childhood fashion choices and my forays into Glamour Shots modeling, I spend entirely too much of my free time reading and blogging about Sweet Valley books. You can follow me on Twitter, Facebook and Tumblr.

Be sure to check out Shannon's blog and to follow her for tons of 90s goodness. Shannon chose to wrote about a subject near and dear to many of our nostalgic hearts: Umbro shorts. Oh, the shininess.


Umbros

Long ago and far away (the 1920s in England), Harold and Wallace Humphreys decided they were sick and tired of their football (and by that I mean soccer) teams looking so shabby on the field. They wanted to dress the sporting world in shiny nylon, so they started Humphreys Brothers Clothing, a name that later got shortened to Umbro. Many years passed during which Umbro outfitted England’s soccer teams, but the rest of the world didn’t care much about it. Then Americans started to play soccer, and we were delighted to learn there was already a clothing line dedicated to our favorite new pastime. In 1992, Umbro was acquired by a South Carolina company called Stone Manufacturing, and we quickly Americanized everything about it.

Umbros were super boring when we got hold of them, but we had a fierce love of neon back in the 90s – probably the last death throes of the 80s getting out of our system. So it was no surprise that those unassuming soccer shorts were soon being produced in all manner of fantastic colors. Even the logo got a splashy new look. Suddenly, Umbros were the Next Big Thing and every school age kid had to have a pair. Finally, I had something to wear with my oversized neon t-shirts!

I don’t know why my friend is holding me like a baby, but check out our Umbros!

Over the next few years, one couldn’t swing a dead cat in a school hallway without hitting at least five kids wearing Umbros. The more athletic kids – the ones who actually played soccer and had probably been wearing Umbro-like shorts for years – generally stuck to the checkerboard/solid color style. The rest of us felt no such compunction and we wore all the new and exciting designs available to us. As long as our shorts had that double diamond logo on them somewhere, we could be confident in our coolness. As has been pointed out before on this blog, there has never been a more brand-name conscious decade than the 90s. Of course, as with any other fashion trend, there were generic knockoffs to be had. These impostor Umbros were easier on our parents’ wallets, but we were pretty sure nobody would like us if we wore them.

A popular design for the serious athlete.

There were a couple of problems Umbro-wearers faced. One was that if it rained, your super awesome hot pink Umbros had a tendency to become transparent and give everyone a good look at your Power Rangers underwear. A bigger problem was that if you did anything athletic, or even if you sat down wrong, you ran the risk of showing off your undies in a more direct way. Umbros, being rather loose and made of a lightweight material, tended to ride up and give the world a pretty good view of things best left unseen. It was for this reason that some of us, myself included, took to wearing biker shorts under our Umbros.

This fellow could use some biker shorts.

These problems aside, the Umbro brand enjoyed a good few years of popularity here in the States. However, we have awfully short attention spans, and Umbro shorts soon gave way to No Fear and flannel shirts. Umbro didn’t care, though. They just went back to doing what they’d always done: creating sportswear for soccer teams. Umbro became part of the Nike family in 2008, and they’re more financially stable than ever. You can still find 90s style Umbros if you’re feeling nostalgic, and you might even be able to make some money if you happen to have any still taking up space in your closet. For instance, the gentleman below sold his pair on Etsy last June.

Don’t you want to be that cool again?



Tuesday, August 16, 2011

Guest Post: 90s TV BFFs

Welcome to yet another installment in this series of Children of the 90s guest blogs! We have several pieces in the works and we are still reviewing applications, so if you are interested in contributing to Children of the 90s, shoot us an email to childrenofthe90s@gmail.com!

Guest blogger Lauren of The Unprofessional Critic has put together a great list of 90s TV BFFs for your reading enjoyment. You can check out her blog at http://unprofessionalcritic.blogspot.com, on Facebook at The Unprofessional Critic, and on Twitter at @unprocritic.


90s TV BFFs




Ah, BFF's. They may not get along 100% of the time, but they're bonded for life (or at least until cancellation). And in the 1990's, best friends were dominating the airwaves. Behold, five of my favorite dynamic duos:

1. Wayne and Garth ("Wayne's World," Saturday Night Live)




As a kid I totally wanted Wayne and Garth's lifestyle: how cool would it be to co-host a TV show with your best friend? Needless to say, I didn't understand until much later that they lived in a suburb. With their parents. Still, whether they were shouting out their theme song, freaking out over Aerosmith, or spouting impromptu haikus, these two always had fun together. Excellent!

2. Felicity and Sally (Felicity)




Felicity premiered my freshman year of college and my roommates and I were obsessed. We were also college freshmen in a big city! And we also wore dorky sweaters! True, Felicity and her chief confidante Sally weren't traditional BFF's - their audio letters to each other meant Sally (voiced by 90's icon Janeane Garofolo) was only heard, never seen. Plus, as Felicity's former French tutor, Sally was considerably older. But Felicity was guarded that first year of university, just coming into her own and learning to trust classmates and friends in a completely new environment. It was Sally who heard her innermost thoughts, her struggles with relationships, classes and career paths. And once in a while, Sally would offer some sage advice that brought tears to my naive 18-year-old eyes (shut up).

3. DJ and Kimmy (Full House)




My sister and I, die-hard Full House fans even when it descended into the madness of poop jokes and way too many twins, each had our own Tanner family counterpart. As the "neglected middle child" (her words), she identified with Stephanie. As the bossy (also her words) eldest of three, I was Team DJ all the way. And wherever Deej was, her buddy/neighbor Kimmy Gibbler was never far behind. Kimmy started out as a normal (if slightly annoying) little girl and ended the series as a brightly-clothed borderline superfreak with a boyfriend who could only say one word. (My sister claims my high school boyfriend looked exactly like Dwayne. Whatever.) But how can you not love a best friend who buys you a rad lavender sequined baseball cap? If I were Kimmy, however, I would have been thrilled with that impromptu hash-brown birthday cake. Pass the ketchup!

4. Beavis and Butt-head (Beavis and Butt-head)




As a 14-year-old misanthrope without a driver's license, in a decade where ironic snark was the name of the game, my late nights were spent in front of our ancient basement TV, hand poised over the Off button in case my mom caught me watching my two favorite shows: The State and Beavis and Butt-head. (Will Smith said it best: parents just don't understand.) The latter spent their evenings in front of a TV, making fun of stupid music videos. Sure, they smacked each other around and claimed the Beatles ruined music, but I understood them. We were in the same awkward, bored boat. (And because Mike Judge is awesome, these guys are about to get a revival. Long live the 90's!)

5. Clarissa and Sam (Clarissa Explains It All)




Come on: who DIDN'T want a Sam? Unlike the mouth-breathing philistines who populated my sixth-grade classroom, Sam was one righteous dude. He wore baggy clothes. He gamely went along with whatever offbeat scheme or fantasy Clarissa was digging into that week. For God's sake, he had a ladder and his very own guitar twang! Plus, he and Clarissa survived one very awkward date and snapped right back into the best friendship that was their destiny. I fully blame Sam for my string of cool guy pals with single-syllable names and awesome T-shirts, which began when I was twelve and continues to this day. (When are you gonna climb into my second-story apartment window, ROB?)

Like what you read? Check out Lauren on Facebook and Twitter!

Friday, August 12, 2011

Guest Post: Tear-Away Pants


Welcome to another installment in this series of Children of the 90s guest blogs! We have several pieces in the works and we are still reviewing applications, so if you are interested in contributing to Children of the 90s, shoot us an email to childrenofthe90s@gmail.com!

Let's all welcome guest blogger Laura of The Butterfly Collector blog. A little about Laura, in her own words:

I’m Laura and I like the smell of bread. Due to possible over-exposure to all things pop-culture throughout my years, I tend to have a dry sense of humour that has the synapses of my mind tying various thoughts together in strange ways. I live in Calgary, Alberta, Canada and love my city. My blog is mostly about my adventures in life as I try to experience as much as I can. I am addicted to twitter (@lowqis) so if you want to see what I am up to, catch me there!

Be sure to check out Laura's blog and follow her on twitter to see more of her amusing musings! Here, she writes about some of the least functional but most poplar athletic wear trends of the 90s: tear-away pants. Take it away, Laura:


Tear-Away Pants

This weekend I ran the Ronald McDonald House “Rock the House Run.” My first 5k since the 90s (when I joined the high school running team to meet a boy I had an unrequited crush on). But that’s not what this post is about. This post is about Ronald McDonald wearing some wicked “tear-aways” in his traditional colours.


Ronald McDonald and me after the 5k


Remember these awesome pants?


Image from realcavsfans.com

Not only could you rock the Adidas trend, but also do it in such a way that at any moment a wardrobe malfunction could happen that as a teenager could lead to years of lying on a couch, dealing with the esteem issues that such embarrassment might have caused. OR, it could prepare our young selves for the biggest fitness craze to hit the new millennium – strippercize!

When I saw Ronald rocking his sweet tear-aways, I was brought back to my youth --when all I wanted was to own anything Adidas, the ultimate way to be one with my peers. Tear-aways were pretty high on my wish list. I liked the idea of only tearing them away up to my knee (or a little bit higher depending on how scandalous I felt – anything to garner the attention of my crush of the week!). I liked the idea that if it were to get too hot, I could rip them off and continue about my business. I also liked the idea (even if its not really factual) of fashion meeting function.

Brand names were not a huge priority in my house and shopping at Zellers (think Target or Wal-Mart) for knock-offs to suffice my need for the latest trends took place a lot (hey! Don’t judge. I was making $5 an hour on a good day babysitting). So off I went to find an appropriate pair of these fabulous pants. Somehow, knock-off designers missed the memo about the ability for these pants to fully be removed by tearing them away (hence the ever clever name of “tear-aways”). On the knock-offs, the entire side seams of the track pants would be snap buttons but the waist would still be intact, leaving only the fabric from the legs to flutter in the wind. This was perfect for the scandalous fashionista in me, but not-so-perfect for the functional part of this design.

How I evolved with this trend through out the 90s and beyond

  • When I was 13, I had a pair of knock-off tear-aways. I was just your regular Sporty Spice in the making.
  • When I was 15, I owned jeans that were slit up to the knee, exposing my “flirtatious” calves.
  • When I was 18, I owned pants that laced up the outside seams from my hips to my thighs (think Christina Aguilera in the “Come on Over” music video) that I loved to wear to the night clubs. Scandalous!

And like Christina, I would up the sex appeal of this leg-baring trend with the ubiquitous belly-baring tops that fashion dictated we wear in the 90s.

Thank you Adidas, I salute you for creating a pant that formed my fashion sense during my impressionable years.

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