Children of the 90s' Top 10 Highly Recommended Daria Episodes

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In honor of this week's long-awaited Daria DVD release, Children of the 90s is counting down 10 favorite Daria episodes. While we're not licensed to officially prescribe you anything, we can highly recommend that you spend the requisite time emerged in fully focused Daria viewership. Really, you won't regret it. If nothing else, it will remind you of a time when MTV was so much more than just The Hills and World's Strictest Parents. Oh, the memories.

Daria fans have been calling for the release of all five seasons on DVDs for years, so it's with great pleasure that devoted Daria-heads embrace the 8-disc full series DVD release from MTV/Paramount. Truthfully, all of the episodes are worth watching; Daria gave us some the wittiest, cleverest, smartest humor ever seen on MTV to date. That's not exactly the top litmus test for intelligent, TV, of course; Date my Mom doesn't exactly register in the same tier.

Something must be right in the world. My digital cable's MTV on Demand is even offering the Daria! Musical as a free promotional feature. Verizon Fios must have known I needed some background inspiration on the big screen to write to. Oh, glorious day! The stars have aligned at last. For those of us with a penchant for sarcastic humor, we can now freely celebrate our 90s quipping idol without violating important copyright laws. Well, except for the clips I've posted here. To be fair, I didn't post them and I totally recommend you buy the series for your own collection.

When you do, here are ten of my favorites to check out. I'm obviously leaving out a horde of great material, so share your own favorites in the comments section. If you don't have any favorites, you've got a lot of make-up work to do. Let's get started:

The Invitation



Even in the second episode of the first season, the Daria writers were well on their way to establishing complex and well-fleshed out adolescent characters. They aptly captured the high school social hierarchy with a tongue-in-cheek commentary on its de facto caste system. Popular cheerleader Brittany invites outcast Daria to her weekend soiree, which Daria takes as a prime opportunity to humiliate social cliber younger sister Quinn. We also get a good look at Quinn's ubiquitous suitors, Jamie, Jeffie, and Joey, whom she tries to date simultaneously.


Quinn the Brain



As Daria muses, "Only Quinn could turn having brains into a fad." After Mr. O'Neill reads Quinn's "Academic Imprisonment" aloud in class and publishes it in the school paper, Quinn adopts a pseudo-intellectual persona whose main features are a black turtleneck and a beret. She also writes stellar poems like, "The greasy fry/it does not lie/the truth is written/on your thigh." Brilliant.


Monster



To fulfill their English class assignment of creating a short film, Daria and Jane settle on the perfect subject: Quinn. They set out to capture her vapidness and superficiality and capture some pretty solid material. Quinn tries to stage the whole thing to make herself look better, but when she asks Daria, "Don't you want to shoot me?" The only appropriate response is, "Yes. I want to shoot you." A guilt trip from mom Helen turns the whole project from an expose into a soft focus ode. Quinn emerges from the whole ordeal more popular than before, but we do get to see a softer side of Daria.


Ill



Daria's Trent-induced anxiety at a Mystik Spiral gig leads to a mysterious rash that lands in her the hospital. Between her mystery illness, an attractive young doctor, and Brittany's desperate attempts to cover up the fact that she too was at that gig incognito as an alternative chick, this episode is pure gold.


Arts n' Crass



Trust Daria and Jane to turn a benign district-wide arts contest into a social commentary on the skewed values of teen society. To fit the contest theme of "Student Life at the Dawn of the New Millennium," Jane draws a beautiful girl gazing into the mirror. Daria adds the wittily dark poem, "She knows she's a winner. She couldn't be thinner. Now she goes to the bathroom and vomits up dinner." Not exactly Pulitzer-worthy, but it does make a statement. The girls fight the school's censorship of their work and embark on an undercover mission to save their poster. Awesomeness ensues.


Daria!



What if the town blew away? It's a legitimate question. As Jane says, "Being a post-apocalyptic town will be cool. Other towns will be scared of us." Sounds like a pretty good deal.

This musical episode is chock full of earworms, so watch with caution. You'll be singing along all day, particularly with gems like "God God Dammit" and "They Must be Worried." You've been warned.


Speedtrapped


What can I say? I'm a sucker for the sappy stuff. I have a soft spots for episodes where Daria and Quinn work as a team. Daria finally gets her driver's license, but she doesn't have much of a chance to enjoy it; Jane and the guys from Mystik Spiral land in jail on traffic charges and need Daria to come bail them out. Quinn's not one to miss out on an adventure, sweeping Daria into her schemes. "Face it, Daria," she says. "You're already accessorizing." Daria asks, dumbfounded, "Do you mean I'm an accessory?" How can you not love the banter between these two? It's just so on.

The Lost Girls



This episode is just pure brilliant commentary on the skewed and underhanded tactics adults use to market alleged youth culture at young girls. Mr. O'Neill enters Daria's essay in a contest for teen magazine Val. Daria lands the prize in the "Win a Day with Val" contest, meaning a self-obsessed name-dropping celebrity hanger-on dressed ten years too young for her true age shadows Daria around at school for the day. In the ever-wise words of Val, things get "jiggy" and "edgy" pretty quickly. Whatever that means.


Write Where it Hurts



Like I said, I go for the sappy stuff. This episode is sharp and funny and places our favorite characters in unfamiliar literary situations as pawns in Daria's story writing attempts, but it also ultimately heartwarming. After many failed tries at writing something good, Daria settles for writing something honest, giving us a peek into the Morgendorfer's future. Daria's parents are astoundingly relaxed, Daria's a famous journalist with an intellectual husband, and Qunn is hilariously a homemaker and mother to several small children. It's touching and sweet, without too much schmaltz.

Boxing Daria



Possibly the darkest episode of the series, "Boxing Daria" gets to the heart of some of Daria's more serious emotional issues. It's the last regular episode of the series before the final TV movie Is it College Yet? In "Boxing Daria," Daria is forced to come to terms with her different-ness and social isolation, recalling a fight her parents had when she was young that culminated in her hiding in a giant refrigerator box to avoid dealing with the situation. The reappearance of a large box in her house coupled with her anxiety about her impending graduation unleashes a Pandora's Box of emotions, culminating in one of the most honest and heartbreaking series conclusions.

90s TV Spinoffs

With all the movie remakes currently in the works, it's not a stretch to wonder if we've just plain run out of ideas. The Karate Kid and The Never-Ending Story are just a few decades young and already they're being treated like golden oldies in need of revamping for the new millennium. To dismiss this generation of hangers-on as a new fleeting phenomenon would be dishonest, though. Our coming-of-age era entertainment was equally if not more guilty of the same abhorrent offenses. We didn't call them rip-offs back then, though. We called them spin-offs.

A spin-off is an admittedly lazy creative process of launching a new program. Relying on the popularity of an already successful show, spin-off creators simply take existing characters and separate them from their natural habitat in an established program. The moment audiences respond remotely positively to a secondary character, producers often jumped on the spin-off bandwagon. The theory was, you liked seeing them on this show for five minutes, why not thirty? It seemed a logical leap, and certainly easier than coming up with an original idea.

In reality, some spin-offs work better than others. There's a fragile balance to keep: true enough to the original characters to ride the wave of the established show's popularity, but original enough not to appear a complete facsimile of the first show. Most of the successful spinoffs relied on repackaging standby semi-major characters, though some managed to coast on showcasing minor or one-time guests. The best of them went on to outstrip the fame of the show from which they were spawned. The worst faded into obscurity as poorly thought-out network schemes to milk a show's popularity for all it was worth.

There were many, many spin-offs in the 90s, but let's take a look at a few of the most-watched:

Cheers-->Frasier



Here's an incidence of a seriously popular spin-off. It ran eleven seasons, the same as its predecessor, Cheers. The show followed regular Cheers patron Dr. Frasier Crane as he hosts a pop psychology call-in radio show. His brother is also a psychiatrist, and a very neurotic one at that. Frasier takes in his aging father and his full-time character, and hilarious, toned-down subdued antics ensue. The show was witty and didn't talk down to its audience, which was always a refreshing notion for a sitcom. Though it wavered a bit in its final years, it remains one of the most successful spin-offs to date.



Perfect Strangers-->Family Matters



Perfect Strangers: two wacky mismatched cousin roommates with differing nationalities. Family Matters: charming middle-class black family. Tough to see the connection, right? Winslow matriarch Hariette Winslow started as a character on Perfect Stranger and was deemed worthy of further exploration. Of course, then they brought in Urkel and everything changed plot focus-wise, but it was a decent staple of the popular TGIF lineup. Not too shabby for a spin-off.



Buffy the Vampire Slayer-->Angel



If you think vampires are the hot new thing, you're probably suffering from acute memory loss. I'd get that checked out if I were you. In the 90s, it was all about Buffy. Her vampires didn't need skin sparkling gimmicks, just her pure ass-kicking finesse. The show spun off Angel in 1999, featuring Buffy regular David Boreanaz as its title character. Angel was a vampire cursed with the restoration of his human soul, thus racking him with guilt and internal struggle. It was a little hokey, but if you're into that kind of thing, it was a pretty for Buffy seconds.




Golden Girls-->Empty Nest-->Nurses + Golden Girls-->The Golden Palace

Talk about a strangled route on this one. The Golden Girls actually split into two separate spin-off tracks, one focusing on a once-featured neighbor couple and the other rebranding the original as a Bea Arthur-less project. None of them assumed the level of popular of Golden Girls, but they did reasonably well for spin-offs.

On track one, we had Empty Nest, a project that had a bumpy road to production. Originally intended to spin from the GG episode Empty Nests about a neighbor couple whose children had all flown the coop. Unluckily for producers, the characters bombed, so they brought in entirely new characters with a different premise altogether: a widower whose post-college aged daughters come back to live with them. They still called it Empty Nest, which of course makes no sense. It was a full nest. The hen was gone, but all the chicks were there. Sounds full to me. Guess they just wanted to spare themselves the embarrassment of admitting they had to can the original concept altogether.



Remarkably, Empty Nest also managed to spurn a spin-off, Nurses. The Nurses in question worked at the same hospital as Dr. Harry Weston of Empty Nest. The show was okay, but the first-season ratings were in a bit of a slump. In response, show writers played all sorts of cheap tricks including like adding new characters and completely changing existing ones. Regardless, the show lasted 3 seasons, so they must have been doing something right.



Meanwhile, on track two we had the McLanahan/White/Getty vehicle, The Golden Palace, in which Don Cheadle gives his second best performance as a hotel manager. Throw in Cheech Marin, and you've got yourself a zany bunch of hotel proprietors. That was the idea, at least. The theme song was a cheesy musakified version of The Golden Girls' "Thank You For Being a Friend". It only lasted one season, partially because of its terrible time slot and partially because it wasn't all that great.





Animaniacs-->Pinky and the Brain



After seeing them on Animaniacs, how could you not give these little lab mice their own half hour to shine? If nothing else, I'm sold on theme song alone. It's so straightforward. One is a genius, the other's insane. So incredibly simple, yet so humorous. Well played, Warner Bros.



Beavis and Butthead-->Daria

This is the first half of the first episode...intrigued? They're all up there. On YouTube. Just don't tell the authorities. They've been uploaded backwards. Ingenius, no? Now go watch them before they're gone.

Here's a case in which the spin-off was entirely different from the series from which it originated. Daria had none of Beavis and Butthead's bonehead humor. It was smart, sarcastic, quick-witted, and hilarious. It was as sharp as B&B was dumb. Our protagonist Daria was something of a social outcast, giving voice to misfits and brains everywhere. The show so perfectly captured the stereotypes of high school, though it treated its subjects with kindness even while mocking them. It had heart, but just when you thought they were going in for the kill on an aww moment, they triggered back with a biting retort.



Party of Five-->Time of Your Life



Another one-seasoner, Time of Your Life was meant to launch Jennifer Love Hewitt's character from Party of Five character into her own series as she tackled New York City. It didn't even make it all the way through its first season before cancellation, if that gives you any hints to the critical reception. It was really pretty terrible.



90210-->Melrose Place-->Models, INC



Melrose Place was intended as an expansion of the 90210 franchise to reach out to the twenty-something demographic. The Jake Hanson character originally appeared on 90210 as a bad-boy biker hired to do some construction for Kelly's family. The two engage in a brief tryst, which was conveniently resolved in time to transfer Jake to the MP apartment complex setting. The show went on to establish its own following and featured much darker storylines than its after-school-special-leaning predecessor.




I'm going to open myself to mockery and admit that as a child, I was a shameless Models, Inc. fan. Really, it was awful, but I was probably among the only disappointed people upon news of the cancellation following the first season. I mean, they ended it with To Be Continued... I heard they eventually aired the continuation on E!, but obviously I missed it. I may never know these answers.


The Tracey Ullman Show-->The Simpsons



You have to give some credit to the longest running sitcom of all time, especially considering it's a cartoon. The Simpsons premiered as animated shorts on the Tracey Ullman Show, featuring a dysfunctional family and their humorous episodic experiences. It may not still be up to its original quick-witted standards, but they do still have their original cast. That's almost as good.


Good Morning Miss Bliss-->Saved By the Bell-->Saved by the Bell: The College Years-->Saved by the Bell: The New Class

How many times can you repackage a franchise? That's the question Saved By the Bell producers must have asked themselves, obviously putting faith in the answer "a whole lot". The original Disney Series centering around junior high students and their teacher played by Hayley Mills was cute enough, but nothing cult fanship worthy. Producers tweaked the shows into the California-based Saved by the Bell and launched a franchise that begot awesome product tie ins like my previously mentioned Zackberry flavored shampoo. The show wasn't really one for continuity, but it made its shaky way to graduation and we assumed they'd all call it a day.

Not so. Featuring a distinctly huskier Zack Morris and some god-awful 90s flannel getups, Saved by the Bell: The College Years, ran one lone season from 1994-1995. It was an effort, sure, but not a particularly valiant one.



Oh, and there was an even worse but far longer-running spin-off, Saved by the Bell: The New Class, retaining only Screech and Mr Belding from the original. And really, I doubt those two were swatting away dozens of projects. They needed the work.

A few of the originals drop by The New Class

Spin-offs can obviously be very hit or miss. Some characters have the potential to carry their own series, while others are better left fading into the background. One thing's for sure, though: if you can grind a franchise into the ground, you might as well give it your best shot. You might get a Frasier, you might get a Time of Your Life, but the odds seem pretty well-stacked in your favor.

Evolution of the Cell Phone Throughout the 80s and 90s

How badly do you want this set of Russian doll-style cell phones created by Karl Bean? Image via geekygadgets.com

These days you feel off kilter and uneasy if your phone is out of your reach for five minutes, but years ago cell phone technology was a flashy trend accessible only to the super rich and Zach Morris. 20 years ago, no one could foresee that even the homeless would be yapping away on cellular telephones, not to mention the growing number of elementary school students who tote personal phones in their backpacks. In an age where we feel a constant need to be plugged in, it's difficult to remember a time when we wouldn't think to tell the whole world of our mundane hourly activities in 140 characters or less. I almost can't believe that I survived an entire decade without knowing via Facebook that my ex-neighbor's daughter-in-law was vacuuming her apartment . A scary thought, indeed.

In the days before communication technology played a major role in our everyday activities, the cell phone was nothing short of a modern marvel. The idea that someone could whip a fully functional phone out of their pockets (or for earlier models, giant carrier bags) was astounding. Let's take a brief trip back through time to an age where simple technology could still delight and amaze the consuming masses:



Motorola DynaTAC 8000X (1983)


While we did see car phones before the 80s, we'd never seen anything quite like this. This was portable enough to be carried around, at least by 1983 standards. Unlike car phones, the DynaTAC series could connect without the intervention of an operator. Oh, and did I mention it cost $3995? In 1983 dollars. That's something upward of $8000 when adjusted for today's inflation. Needless to say, these were not within the reach of most consumers.



Nokia Mobira Talkman (1984)


Even under ideal care and conditions, the more portable DynaTAC could only eke out about 60 minutes of talk time. It was flashy and interesting, yes, but practical, no. On the plus side,these unwieldy battery packs on the Talkman models could allow for extended cell phone life. On the minus, you had to carry a giant battery around with you.

Motorola MicroTAC 9800X (1989)

This phone was widely revered for its small and light construction, boasting "pocket size" proportions. It even featured a revolutionary flip mouthpiece, which of course made it look infinitely cooler than the Zach Morris model. On the low end, no-frills versions of the MicroTAC sold for around $2500, still falling short of the release of a reasonably priced cellular telephone.



Pagers/Beepers

Yes, I admit, it's not really a cell phone. The pager, however, was a stepping stone into regular consumer ownership of phone-related devices. While cell phones were still pretty pricey for the general public, pagers became a sensible means of getting a hold of someone while they were out. For example, the babysitter could alert the parents of their child's incessant projectile vomiting, and the parents could rush to a nearby payphone to offer cleanup tips. It was a handy way to keep track of people, and far cheaper than a full-fledged phone.

As the affordability of cell phones rose, pagers were once again relegated to use by businesspeople and doctors. It almost makes me shed a tear to think that a generation from now, no one will think Daria's Quinn Morgendorfer's line, "Mom! I'm not my sister's beeper!" is funny. It is, by the way, hilarious.


First Cell Phone TV Commercial (1989)



That 80s music! The lack of voice-over! The cheesy montage quality! This commercial had it all. Well, all by the standards of horribly corny 80s commercials. I do kind of like when that guy tries to call his way out of the sheep traffic jam on the road. Classic.



Radio Shack Cell Phone TV Commercial (1990)



Just take a look at that battery pack! I mean, really. Doesn't this seem like somewhat of a step backward toward Talkman territory? Didn't they already have a few phones without enormous battery packs? Why do I need to carry the equivalent of a lumberjack's hearty lunchbox just to make a call on my boat? I assume cost and battery life had something to do with it, but that thing is an eyesore.

Motorola International 3200 (1992)
The first to utilize GSM (Global Systems for Mobile Communications) technology, this is the first of the cell phone dinosaurs that would actually still work on today's network. It also had an LCD screen, though you certainly couldn't do much with it.

First Person-to-Person Text Message (1993)

This nugget of information is included solely to bask in the memory of a time before text messages and the inevitable carpel tunnel developed thereafter. Back then, the idea of composing the equivalent of an entire letter via cell phone was unfathomable. Despite the available technology, it would still be several years before texting took off in a big way.


IBM Simon (1994)

IBM and BellSouth teamed up to produce the first market-viable SmartPhone, released in 1994 as the IBM Simon. The Simon had, alongside its regular cell phone capability, the power to send and receive faxes, a pager function, and the features of a PDA. It even came with games and had a touch screen. How progressive is that? At $899 it still wasn't a bargain, but it was slighty more within the range of access for ordinary consumers.



Motorola StarTAC (1996)

Our first flip phone, or as they are more adorably known, the clamshell model. It was extremely compact for the time, and the design looks pretty close to that of a basic flip phone today*. Magazine ads even featured a punch-out picture version of it to illustrate its real size, which was pretty well-received as far as marketing strategies go. On the other hand, this baby still cost you a grand, so you might have just stuck with faking it with your magazine cutout version.

Nokia 5110(1998)

One of the most popular models of the time, this phone was everywhere. Even Scully from the X-Files used it, and I certainly trust her taste in communication technology. This was the first phone I owned, rewarded to me upon receipt of my driver's license, and I certainly treasured it. I lavished it in gifts like jeweled buttons and electric pink faceplates, and let me tell you, I know my 5110 appreciated it.

The 5110 was also the first phone to have the game Snake, which entertained me through a serious bulk of my high school classes and study halls. Seriously, I rocked at Snake. This was also the first phone to feature interchangeable faceplates, meaning you could alter the design and make it look, in many cases, ridiculous.



Nokia 8810 (1998)

Our good friends at Nokia had a novel idea: why not fold up the external antenna and stick it inside the phone? The resultant 8810 with internal antenna was extremely popular, and looked pretty futuristic for its time. Just take my word for it.



Nokia 7110(1999)

Alright, finally we're getting somewhere connectivity-wise! The 7110 was the first to include WAP (Wireless Application Protocol) technology, meaning it had pretty limited access to some online material and capabilities. Plus, they modeled the sliding bottom after the phone in the Matrix. All you needed were a pair of sunglasses and a simulated reality environment and you could be just like Neo.

Nokia 3210 (1999)

Internal antenna? Compose your own ringtones? Switchable faceplates? And the first with T9? Where do I sign up?

My brain is now specially wired (or perhaps in this case, wirelessly capable) to know all of the distinct nuances of T9 without even looking at my phone. Predictive text was a new and exciting concept that meant you didn't have to press every damn button 4 times to get the letter you want, one at time. Well done, Nokia.



All of these phones are a far cry from today's ultra sleek, ultra capable phones, but at the time they were greeted with great enthusiasm. We never knew quite what they'd come up with next. Nowadays, it's hard to imagine how much further technology will go. I can't fathom what more they can do with it, but I'm sure they'll think of something. Catch up with me in 20 years when I'm chatting on my sandwich phone and we'll talk.



*Not that anyone except me still has an archaic phone like that, but still

The Real World

Last weekend, sometime between my many hours wasted watching For the Love of Ray J, World's Strictest Parents, and MTV Teen Cribs I got to thinking where exactly reality TV has veered off course. We all know it's far cheaper and easier for networks to produce reality shows that actual scripted TV shows with content and purpose, but somewhere along the way the phenomenon has spun out of control. While now we're now looking for the greatest American dog and giving Brett Michael's most curious female cast-offs their own half hour of television, in the 90s reality TV was still a burgeoning idea. It may shock and amaze you now, but the modifier "reality" once preceded the noun "TV" without even a trace of irony.

The Real World is still on of course, but we can all agree it's gotten a whole lot less real over its 22 seasons-to-date run. Now at open casting calls I imagine they have check boxes with labels like "Drunken Frat Boy Likely to Pick an Ignorant and Poorly Thought-Out Fight" or "Frustrated Psuedo-Intellectual Racial or Sexual Preference Minority Prototype", but in 1992 when the show premiered the show was a fresh concept.

Producers (and now reality show moguls) Jonathan Murray and Mary Ellis-Bunim initially considered making The Real World a semi-scripted soap opera, giving the preselected cast members a blueprint of their character development and storylines. You know, like they do nowadays on reality TV. If this idea had come to fruition with the quickly dissembled so-called "Season 0" cast, we could have seen Tracy Grandstaff (the then-future voice of MTV's Daria) play out as a character on The Real World. The pilot was soon dropped and exchanged for an actual set of seven strangers, forming the 1992 premiere season of The Real World.

In 1992, we first heard of MTV's grand social experiment, as the New York season premiered with these now-familiar words:

This is the true story... of seven strangers... picked to live in a house...work together and have their lives taped... to find out what happens... when people stop being polite... and start getting real...The Real World.


For your viewing pleasure, a montage of Real World Intros. I couldn't find them any other way. The first one on there is New York, my favorite part of which has got to be when they intone "...and start getting real," after which we hear a cast member yell, "Can you get the phone?" This was them not being polite/being real in 1992. Amazing.

So, what exactly happened when people stopped being polite and started being real? In 1992, this was actually a provocative and novel question. MTV brought in Becky, Norman, Heather, Julie, Kevin, Eric, and Andre to help us find out. I'm going to go out on a limb here and side with pop culture critic Chuck Klosterman in declaring the first season to be the only season of TRW that was actually "real" by any definition of the world. There was no meta self awareness going on, nor was there shameless self promotion in pursuit of low-tier fame. The first cast was the only one with no idea what was in store, what would get them screen time, or how the show would look as a finished product.

This was a short-lived phenomenon, of course, and soon the show was riddled with the kind of drama producers and sponsors salivate over. Here are just a few of the many, many ratings-skyrocketing dramatic moments that characterized the show in the 90s:



Puck vs. Everyone, Especially Pedro (San Francisco)


Sometimes good heartedness and good TV just don't mix. David "Puck" Rainey was a prime example of this phenomenon. No one could deny that watching his puzzling, over-the-top, and frequently unhygienic antics was entertaining. His worldview, however, was not quite as appealing to viewers as his penchant for picking his nose and eating peanut butter from the jar with his fingers. Puck was a notorious attention hog who represented the brazen new class of wannabe fame-seekers who made up the rising underclass of reality TV. He came to blows with pretty much everyone in the house, but the most memorable and shameful was his confrontation with Pedro Zamora.

Zamora had been diagnosed with AIDS, and his kind spirit and desire to battle ignorance against his disease made him the ideal target for Puck. Essentially, Puck became incensed that Pedro was a far more interesting character than him and thus was receiving far more attention. The only logical solution in his deluded mind was to attack Pedro constantly, instigating unnecessary confrontations. Pedro, in all his goodness, was ready to leave the house under the siege of torment until the other cast members decided to evict Puck. Sadly, Pedro died almost immediately after the airing of the San Francisco season finale, but his triumph over an asshat like Puck was a well-deserved minor victory.



Melissa and Dan Fight Over Postal Rights (Miami, 1996)



I don't know about you, but I take the US Postal Service's code to honor the privacy of my mail very seriously. Which is why it came as no surprise to me when Dan exploded upon finding that Melissa opened his letter containing pricey materials for his work. He goes so far as to call her a stupid bitch, which seems a little harsh for some innocent housemate mail-tampering. Things escalate quickly, as they tend to do on The Real World. In retaliation, Melissa flung some anti-gay slurs at him, which in retrospect was probably not a wise move. The drama just oozes from this clip. It's ridiculous TRW at its finest.



The Slap Heard Round the World (Seattle, 1998)

Stephen slaps Irene
Uploaded by 1dobiedc. - Classic TV and last night's shows, online.

Possibly the most infamous of Real World moments was what MTV dubbed "The Slap Heard Round the World". Even this early in the game, MTV realized the value of branding and packaging TRW's drama and making it seem like news. I suppose it's a testament to the show's resonance that people still remember this moment, though to its credit it is absolutely crazy.

Irene was looking for an out, so she cried Lyme Disease and asked to leave the show. To be fair, she did actually have Lyme Disease, but her claims of its debilitating impact may have been just a bit exaggerated. In what must have been a Lyme Disease-induced bout of insanity, she outs Stephen as a homosexual. Smooth move, Irene. To retaliate, Stephen does what any normal guy would do. That is to say, he throws her prized stuffed animal into the watery abyss and then stops her moving car to slap her in the face.

If he was working to quell those murmurings about his sexuality, this may not have been his best move. All in all, Irene may have had the last laugh, or at least a validation of her character over Stephen's. In the early 2000s he was arrested for prostitution and then for stealing a 1988 Toyota Camry. Smooth move, Stephen. We can only imagine his indisposed clients asking to reenact that fateful slapping scene. Though to be honest, I'd prefer not to.


As many of you well know, these moments are just the tip of the iceberg. The crazy seemed to snowball with each new season, turning the show into a free-for-all frenzy of threesomes, stereotyped character molds, and general drunken debauchery. In the early years, though, it was more of a legitimate social experiment to see what happened what people stopped being polite, and started getting real. Okay, so that reality may have included a verbal pillaging for semi-innocent mail tampering, but it still beats watching The Real World: Cancun.

90s Gap Commercials

If you're seeking evidence that times were simpler in the 90s, look no further than the then-mega brand GAP. While the store has done a fair bit of backsliding over the past decade, it enjoyed some serious popularity back in the 90s. I'm not completely certain that our 2000s-era brains can even wrap themselves around the notion of a prehipster era, but there really was a time before ironic poseur stylings a la American Apparel ruled the roost. Once upon a time, simplicity was cool. They didn't try to sell us a mindset or mentality or lifestyle: they just tried to sell us some khakis and corduroys.

In the 90s, Gap developed a well-conceived strategy for convincing young people everywhere to go out and buy whatever marginally overpriced plain-as-white-bread product they were hawking that week. They were wise in realizing that if their product itself was less than revolutionary, they may as well go out and create some highly calculated ads intended to suggest themselves as edgy and representative of youth culture. They recognized that cool in itself was a relatively poorly defined product, so they might as well just swoop in and claim their unwarranted share of it.

They were keen on the suggestibility of young people, so they unleashed a slew of commercials whose end tagline claimed "everyone" to be in some particular item of clothing. The commercials themselves were clean and simple and appropriately over-serious in a way that suggests they were so cool the actors couldn't be bothered to crack a smile. Each of these ads featured the same well-groomed crowd of ethnically diverse young adults all sporting minor variations of the same Gap item. Someone who obviously had experience staging high school plays blocked the cast into well-maintained formations from which they could stare blankly and nonchalantly at the audience.

Each of these commercials featured a single song, but rather than utilizing the convenient ready-made version of the song they offered each semi-surly young person the star-making opportunity to sing a single line of each. I'm not quite sure if these commercials were supposed to be based on any sort of actual real-life organic situation, but my instinct tells me the answer is probably no. My friends and I wanted to be cool, sure, but we never got together in matching outfits to stare pensively into the expansive abyss in well-organized groupings and come in just on cue for our turn to belt out a fragment of our favorite song.

In this spot, "Everybody in Leather", Gap launched the first portion of its 90s trademark ad campaign:



The synthesizers! The bouncing camera changes! The stone-faced expressions of our attractive stars! I don't know about you, but I just can't get enough. The ad had all the critical ingredients for successfully breaking through the cool barrier. If you're thinking you see a few familiar faces, you may be right. The outstandingly attractive Twilight-hairstyled fellow who gets a lot of face time in these slots is none other than Phantom Planet frontman Alex Greenwald. You know, of the OC theme song? And a bunch of other stuff I would have heard of if I either knew anything about the band or was more diligent in my research?

There's another little lady in the crowd who some of us may know, but she wasn't featured so prominently in the leather spot. Once everybody gets to wear cords and sing "Mellow Yellow" she gets a prime spot in the front right.



Rashida Jones! What on earth are you doing in my 90s Gap ads before I knew who you were and you awkwardly interfered with the heavenly alignment of fated Office romances? Who knew?

There was another in this series in which everyone wore cords and got dressed up in love, Madonna style. Rashida even gets her own line at :16, so play careful attention if you're into that sort of thing:



This ad was the be-all-end-all declaration of a generation's brief but torrid love affair with wholly unattractive fleece vests. I mean, you saw the kids in the commercial. Don't you want to be like them? Not necessarily standing staggered with windows to see the people behind you like in a dance recital, but more just hanging out with your ultra-sleek multicultural gang of unsmiling pals? I was pretty convinced. The fleece vest wasn't necessarily functional clothing (what of my cold arms?) but it was certainly popular.

Aside from this campaign, Gap had a concurrent khaki campaign that differed slightly while similarly emphasizing coolness in the simplicity of Gap clothing. They also subtly suggest that wearing Gap khakis inevitably leads to impromptu well-choreographed dance-offs, which certainly never happened to me when I wore mine. I guess I was just never in the right place at the right time. I could have swing danced* my little heart out.

The khaki ads didn't feature as much singing, but there was a lot more dancing to all types of khaki-lovin' music. We had our country:



I mean, honestly. They don't even fit those models that well, nor they seem especially flattering. Regardless, the commercials had us hooked. We were under the Gap spell and no one could shake it off. We needed these khakis.

The khakis demonstrated their dancing versatility a-go-go:



They rocked:



They souled:



They hip hopped:



But most of all, they swung:



That's right, the Gap actually paid a significant contribution to the swing revival movement of the late 90s. Well played, Gap. Retro purists hated this garbage, of course. If you've ever seen the Daria episode "Life in the Past Lane", Jane actually meets a retro-centric guy who asserts, "I was pre-khakis commercial and don't you forget it!" Sorry, retro fiends. Gap mainstreamed it.

So there you have it. The Gap may be struggling to define itself now, but back in the 90s it had a well-established reputation for coolness largely based on the simplicity of its ad campaign. If any of you with a business plan are taking notes, though, forget it. This would never work today. After all, nowadays we all fast forward through commercials. In the 90s, however, we watched TV to see our favorite commercials. Yes, it was a simpler time. When we could all just sit on in a blank white space and express ourselves through the non-smiling art of song.





*Swung dance? Swung danced? Someone please past tense-icize this phrase for me.

Is It Fall Yet?

Let me apologize for not having your daily dose of 90s in order per usual this morning. You see, in some sort of unforeseen* meteorological turn of events, my internet connection experienced some severe disturbances during peak blogging time. After my ever-helpful boyfriend spent extensive time proxy online live-chatting with the none-so-helpful Alvaro of Time Warner Cable, it was clear that you were just not going to get the incredibly outstanding post I'd originally planned on researching for lack of sufficient connectivity.

That is to say, I was this close to promising to name my firstborn Alvaro if only he would have reinstated my beloved interweb. Unfortunately, Alvaro did no such thing in saving me from certain cable outage. I was forced to shake my fist despairingly heavenward and intone "ALVARO!" Alvin and the Chipmunks style. My boyfriend (again, very helpfully) proceeded to play me the Alvin and the Chipmunks Christmas song over the phone while I waited for the reports back on Alvaro's snail-like progress, but that's really here nor there.

Where was I? Oh yes, excuses. So, that fabulously insightful post will have to wait, and I will leave you will a solid dose of 90s to get you through your weekend. This was what I'd brilliantly thought to post on Labor Day, only to spend the whole day being neglectful and vacation-prone and sending myself into successive barbecue food comas. Hence, you lucky so-and-sos get a shot at it today. I know, I know. You're welcome.

Via the magic of embeddable playlists, here is the full Daria inter-season movie Is It Fall Yet**? It seems very appropriate as we bid our summers adieu, plus it's one of my favorites here at Children of the 90s. Ask anyone who's been reading a few months and they'll assure you that it's in my secret plan to faithfully spread the gospel of Daria to all those who know not her truth and wisdom. Let me speak to you seriously here for a moment: it's one of the smartest shows to ever air, period, not to mention the most sage teen or cartoon series. Please, proceed with caution, as your watching this will hopefully lead to a lifelong relationship soon to be satiated by the supposedly impending DVD release.






Have a great weekend, 90s kids!


*Unforeseen by me, not by actual meteorologists. No, I'm sure those green-screen facing smug bastards knew all along.
**In this case, the unfortunately correct answer is yes, yes it is

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.

Will Smith's Big Willie Style

Fear not, loyal readers. I have not forsaken you and skipped over the Fresh Prince. I know how important it is to you, and how much you'd like to watch a video of the Carlton dance on repeat. I promise it will be in a separate post, as Will Smith was sort of a 90s renaissance man. Well, a renaissance man with neon sideways hats who was partial to using words like "jiggy". Nonetheless.

Will Smith is a jack of all trades, starting his career as the Fresh Prince with DJ Jazzy Jeff in producing upbeat, clean, radio-friendly raps that included such classic titles as "Parents Just Don't Understand." This was mainstream rap at its finest, appealing to young people across the board. In the mid-90s, following his eponymous role as The Fresh Prince of Bel Air, Smith released the album Big Willie Style. This was mid-to-late-90s pop rap at its finest, featuring up-tempo beats and squeaky-clean lyrics. This kind of thing would never have taken off today. I'm pretty sure today's rappers have some sort of bitch-and-hoe per verse quota.

Allow me to take you on a gloriously 90s trip back in rap time, back to an age of semi-innocence, where rapping about fighting aliens or hanging out with your kid was good enough to take the airways by storm. Yes, really. I know, I know, it sounds made up, but this was the real deal back in the day. You know. Big Willie style's all in it. Or so he claimed.

Men in Black


I will openly admit that this was the first movie (okay, fine, Gremlins too) that gave me a barrage of nightmares about frightening little burrowing creatures. Did I mention these films were comedies? I must have led a sheltered cinematic life. Men in Black featured a song by the same name performed by none other than its slick co-star Will Smith. Smith and Tommy Lee Jones were ultra-cool non-governmental agents charged with covering up and/or policing from earthbound alien action. You may think it's tough to bust out some bad-ass rhymes based on a movie based on a comic book, and you may be right. The song was definitely catchy, though, featuring incredibly literal lyrical descriptions like these:

The good guys dress in black remember that
Just in case we ever face to face and make contact
The title held by me MIB
Means what you think you saw you did not see
So don't blink be what was there is now gone
The black suits with the black ray bans on
Walk in shadow move in silence
Guard against extra terrestrial violence
But yo we ain't on no government list
We straight don't exist no names and no fingerprints
Saw somethin' strange watch your back
Cause you never quite now where the MIBs is at

Yes, that is pretty much the whole plot of the movie. Sweet synopsis, Will. For the full effect, here's the music video. You can't say you don't find those aliens a tiny bit frightening. Really? Not at all? Just me? Okay then.





Gettin' Jiggy Wit' It


Don't be fooled by all of those well-placed prematurely word-ending apostrophes--they are a well-calculated ploy to seem cool and hip while maintaining a spotlessly innocent rapping character. Well, depending on your definition of "jiggy", that is. Luckily there was no officially agreed-upon meaning to this mysterious slang term, meaning we could not ascertain the exact connotations of Smith's songs. According to Dictionary.com*, there are a few definitions of "jiggy" out there:

Here's the original:
jig⋅gy–adjective, ‑gi⋅er, ‑gi⋅est. Slang.

1.	nervous; active; excitedly energetic.

2.	wonderful and exciting, esp. because stylish.

And here are what I can only assume to be the ensuing speculations:

Main Entry: jiggy
Part of Speech: adj
Definition: excited or involved; also, to get involved with sexually
Example: Jennifer Lopez has gotten jiggy with a few men

Main Entry: jiggy
Part of Speech: adj
Definition: cool, totally cool
Example: I am jiggy with that idea

Please also direct your attention to Daria's episode "The Lost Girls", which features more than a fair smattering of use of this elusive term.



Featuring lyrics like this, I'm inclined to guess the connotations aren't so much sexual as jig-dancing. Main clues: his admission to not actually smoking cigars and the gratuitous use of pig-latin.

Everybody lookin at me
Glancin the kid
Wishin they was dancin a jig
Here with this handsome kid
Ciga-cigar right from cuba-cuba
I just bite it
Its for the look I dont light it
Illway the an-may on the ance-day oor-flay
Givin up jiggy make it feel like foreplay




Miami




This song is brilliant in its simplicity, as its only real purpose to to extol the virtues of Miami in rap-form. He does make it sound pretty good, what, with all of the bouncing in the club where the heat is on and those Dominican women with cinnamon tan. Clever rhyme, right? I thought so.

One thing I'll say for Smith: he does not disrespect women in his song. While other rappers make the women in their lyrics say all sorts of demeaning things, in "Miami" their lines are pretty straightforward, if a bit Will Smith ego-inflating. They're always being like, "Hi Will!" or telling him how much they loved his last hit, and occasionally if they've had a few maybe they'll moan "Aii Poppy." They're even a bit educational, teaching us some Spanish along the way. That's right. I can now say Buenvenidos a Miami. Thanks, Smith backup singers!






Just the Two of Us

You've got to hand it to Will--he really knows how to make the ladies say "awww". While the original Bill Withers version of "Just the Two of Us" was about romantic love, Smith went ahead and made it about his love for his son. Geez, what are you going for, an honorary uterus or something? That's just so...sensitive.

I mean, really, Will. These lyrics. Mushy. The mushiest. What happened to good old fashioned rap? If you had any doubt that the genre'd gone soft on you, here's your proof:


From the first time the doctor placed you in my arms
I knew Id meet death before Id let you meet harm
Although questions arose in my mind would I be man enough
Against wrong choose right and be standin up
From the hospital that first night
Took a hour just ta get the carseat in right
People drivin all fast got me kinda upset
Got you home safe placed you in your bassinet
That night I don't think one wink I slept
As I slipped out my bed to your crib I crept
Touched your head gently felt my heart melt
Cause I know I loved you more than life itself
Then to my knees and I begged the lord please
Let me be a good daddy all he needs
Love knowledge discipline too
I pledge my life to you






I guess it just goes to show: you don't need to be shocking to be successful. You just need to be devastatingly handsome, have your own sitcom, star in an endless string of box-office blockbusters, and become an international celebrity. Don't tell anyone I told you this, though. Who knows what could happen if this type of information gets into the wrong hands.





*The official dictionary of the lazy and internet-addicted. Also, those sample sentences? Wow.

Weinerville

Sure, to children of the 70s and 80s, the Talking Heads may be a new wave rock band responsible for Burning Down the House, but to children of the 90s the phrase conjures up a far puppetier image. Namely that of Marc Weiner's Weinerville, a 90s Nickelodeon show featuring the children's entertainment stylings of Herr puppetmeister himself, Marc Weiner. Weinerville's trademark human head/tiny puppet body combo was both moderately frightening to small children and infinitely entertaining to those old enough to get a kick out of it. I still have an unrealized ambition to be Weinerized (e.g. for my full-size head to appear on a tiny puppet body), but I may just have to write that one off. Damn.

Marc Weiner was nothing if not imaginative. Weinerville and its innumerable puppet citizens were the sum of the no doubt many fragments of creativity floating around in Marc Weiner's head. The whole thing has a feel of every time you ever said, "You know, I have this crazy idea...", only in this case it translated into following through with that zany impulse rather than burying it deep into your repressive creative subconscious.

I don't know what it takes to become a pupeteer, but I do certainly find it admirable as a career goal. To think, while the rest of us are morphing more and more daily into The Man with our corporate suits and attache cases, there are actual adults who earn a sizable living off of controlling the marionetted limbs of fanciful puppets. Indeed, it's a pretty enviable career path. I'm not talking about those struggling pupeteers a la John Cusack in Being John Malkovich. I'm talking being paid to create a full-scale imaginary universe of puppets for which you get to add the suffix "ville" to your own last name. Just imagine, you, a ville. We can only dream.



Like many Nickelodeon shows of its time, Weinerville featured a live-action audience participation element, leaving those of us at home immeasurably covetous of the lucky so-and-sos who got to interact with the puppets themselves. Despite the incessant begging, my parents never caved to let me be a veritable member of the live studio audience at Nickelodeon Studios in Universal Studios, Florida. I even learned to recite that phrase via constant exposure to the informative ending of every live-action Nickelodeon show, but to no avail. I was going to have to settle for being part of a live at-home television audience, and that was that.

Weinerville was home to many, many puppet pals, most of whom were played by Marc Weiner himself. Played by his head, that is. In the above intro, you can see Marc as Baby Jeffery, an infant famous for creating outrageous messes. Two of the other more familiar characters were Dottie and Zip, the trusty mayor of Weinerville and her injury-prone assistant Zip. Marc played Dottie, donning makeup, a curly blonde wig, and falsetto with conviction. Zip was pure puppet through and through, allowing him to be more easily placed in dangerous and potentially painful situations. Observe, a montage of Zip and Dottie introducing the show:



Another favorite puppet was Boney, a dinosaur skeleton and a sort of anti-Barney. He's pretty much awesome because he hates everything and everyone, as evidenced in his trademark song, "I'm Boney, I'm Boney, leave me alone-y!" I don't know what it says about me as a child that I found this Boney fellow so hilarious, but I'm guessing it's in some way correlated to my angsty 90s cynicism.



The show also featured a slew of animated shorts, generally unrelated to the puppet action onstage. The cartoons featured the likes of such animated personalities as Batfink, Mighty Mouse, and Mr. Magoo. Cartoon stars from decades past were once again entertaining children, albeit only in short inter-sketch segments. Regardless of value, the cartoon shorts kept the show moving and maintained its quick pace during scene changes.

The interactive element of the show allowed for Weinerizing, the puppetization of real live audience members. Weinerized children often got to participate in all sorts of fun on-camera shenanigans, vying for gold and silver hot dog statuettes. In some cases, they were even lucky enough to experience the tour de fource of Nickelodeon audience participatory experiences: the sliming:



Admittedly, the show wasn't for everyone. To say the acting and execution was over-the-top would be a pretty forgiving understatement. Regardless, the show certainly had its charms in a whimsical-puppet-world type of way. As Daria's trusty sidekick Jane once said, everything is funnier with puppets*. I suppose I'll let you be the judge:




*The many, many Daria references recently peppering these posts are largely contingent on my finishing all 5 seasons while going stir-crazy in my current state of apartment-bound ankle breakage. Consider it a gift.