What I Miss Most About the 1990s Is....

There's an article in tomorrow's (8/7/11) The New York Times Magazine titled, "My So-Called Adulthood" about how Generation X--like every other generation before it--has become nostalgic for all things 1990s (the era of its youth), despite the fact that Gen X was famous for reviling the nostalgia it grew up with: the Baby Boomers fondness for all things 1960s.

Here is the link to the article.

The author Carl Wilson wonders how our generation can proudly embrace retromania when we grew up listening to the Baby Boomers talk about how great the 60s were: how their generation created the best music, ended segregation, were activists, and truly "believed in something, man." Back in the early 90s, didn't we hate the way they always reminisced about the good ol' days, then called us slackers and pointed out that by the time they were our age, they'd already marched on Washington five times and been thrown in jail for protesting something-or-another? They even insisted their drugs were better.

Yay! Beavis and Butthead are
coming back!

And now here we are, 20 years later, in the midst of a 1990s revival. Limp Bizkit, Faith No More, and Third Eye Blind (just to name a few) are touring this summer, plus MTV is bringing back some of its old programming, like "Beavis and Butthead" and "Pop-Up Video." It makes me laugh because we slackers are now the demo with the disposable income. HA! You love us now, don't you?

Mr. Wilson asks the following question in the article: "How does an anti-nostalgic generation deal with the human reflex to sentimentalize its youth?" Of course when I read that sentence, the only thing that popped into my head was, "The reflex...is in charge of finding treasure in the daaaark!"

Right Said Fred: Amusing
yet oh so embarrassing

The answer, according to Mr. Wilson, is mix-tapes. Apparently, some young musicians are creating music called "hypnagogic" or "hauntological" (I swear, I'm not making this up), with melodies that sound like pop songs from previous decades, but recorded to simulate old age by sounding fuzzy or staticky. And many of the artists are recording this music on the practically-extinct cassette tape. (I bet they are really proud of themselves, too).

I have a better idea: How about we Gen Xers join Facebook, post the original videos of all our favorite 80s and 90s songs, share comments about what that song means to each of us, and have fun honestly reminiscing about the good (e.g. Nirvana) and the bad (e.g. Right Said Fred) that our generation had to offer?

Oh, duh.

Talking to Girls About Duran Duran

One of the Christmas presents I received from my husband last December was Talking to Girls About Duran Duran by Rob Sheffield. I've admired Sheffield's music writing in Rolling Stone for years, and, as those who know me are well aware, I was a HUGE Durannie back in the day. So I was definitely looking forward to reading his latest book, which is basically a music memoir (as is his first book, Love Is a Mix Tape, which I have not read).

I'm enjoying Talking to Girls About Duran Duran and would recommend it--but mainly just to those folks who came of age in the '80s and will be able to appreciate all the era-specific references (Phoebe Cates, Soloflex Man posters, Square Pegs) and one-hit-wonder recording artists (Haircut 100, Kim Wilde, Tone Loc). If you didn't live it, I don't think you'll really get it.

Also, Sheffield's writing style suffers slightly in the longer format; he tends to repeat himself and over-explain things, as if he stretched 100 pages of material into a 274-page book. 

But that's okay, because it turns out Sheffield is even a bigger Duran Duran fan than I am, so I gotta respect that. I was a young girl when they made it big, and therefore my flame burned hotter (I doubt Rob wallpapered his bedroom with John Taylor photos). But his flickered longer: Sheffield still buys Duran Duran albums, while I stopped when the '80s ended.

One great thing Sheffield does is completely and utterly capture the way teenagers can infuse music with way too much meaning and importance. For example, this is what he says about Hall & Oates's "Maneater":

"But I love every minute of this song. The long, smoldering intro, building up tension beat by beat. The cheesy '80s sax solo to end all cheesy '80s sax solos.... And the way it warns me about those tough girls they were always singing about. The girl was deadly, man, but she could really rip my world apart? 

Why the hell didn't I meet any girls like this? Where did all these she-cats hang out?...Okay, so the beauty is there, but the beast is in her heart. Where's the downside, Hall? He wouldn't say. All he told me was, 'I wouldn't if I were you. I know what she can do.' And all Oates added was 'Watch out!' I have to admit, I was intrigued."

Clearly, Sheffield put way too much thought into each and every song he heard in the '80s. But didn't we all? Because, as Sheffield writes, these were the songs that "...warped my brain with dubious ideas, boneheaded goals, laughable hopes and timeless mysteries.... But I'm not tossing these songs into any kind of fire--I'm just shaking them to see what memories come tumbling out. And of course, a lot of those memories have to do with love, and learning about love through pop music." 

That's why these songs mean so much to us: because at the time, everything meant so much to us. We felt every aspect of life so deeply, and music was no exception. Nowadays, I can still occasionally get fired up about a song (like Adele's "Running in the Deep"), but it's not the same. I miss those days when I would rush out to the record store, babysitting money in hand, to buy an eagerly anticipated album the day it came out. Needless to say, that doesn't happen anymore.

Reading Talking to Girls About Duran Duran brought all that back to me. So thank you, Rob Sheffield, for the trip down memory lane.

Time Passages

I was in the car the other day, and "Little Miss Can't Be Wrong" by the Spin Doctors came on the radio. When the D.J. informed us listeners that the tune was from 1993, at first I just thought, "Oh, right, that was when I was living in Boston after college, before I moved to Manhattan." But then I did the math: "Holy crap, that was EIGHTEEN years ago!" Because, while it doesn't quite feel like yesterday, it certainly doesn't seem like almost two decades ago.

It got me thinking about how the passage of time feels so much different now that I'm getting older. I remember being, oh, fifteen maybe, and rolling my eyes whenever adults would say something stupid like, "Enjoy it while you can...before you know it, you'll be all grown up with real responsibilities!" Because back then, it seemed like it was taking forever to grow up. And now, of course, the years do seem to be passing by much more quickly.

But that's to be expected so it's no big deal. However, what I am having trouble wrapping my brain around is this:

When I was 15 years old, 18 years earlier was 1967, and the differences between 1985 & 1967 seem SO MUCH more extreme than the differences between 2011 & 1993. The confusing/disturbing/weird part is that I can't figure out why this is the case. Surely it can't only be because I actually experienced the years between '93 and '11, while I was either unborn or else a young child for most of the years between '67 and '85, can it? That just seems crazy. Perhaps it's because the changes in the world in the late 60s and 70s were so huge and important that it makes it feel as though 1967-1985 had to be more than 18 years.

Because think about it....

1967 was the Summer of Love, The Doors, Beatles, hippies, flowers in hair, Vietnam War, and protests.

The following 18 years were incredible: Students were shot at Kent State, the Vietnam War finally ended, the Women's Rights Movement took off, abortion was legalized, Watergate happened, there was the Three Mile Island incident, the arms race with the Soviets escalated, and punk co-existed with disco...just to name a few monumental events.


Now let's look at 1985:


Madonna, Frankie Goes to Hollywood, day-glo, drug cartels, Reaganomics, New Coke, Live Aid, and Miami Vice.

So much changed in the world from the late 60s to 1985!

However, when I think of the 18 years following 1993, sure there were some important events that occurred--most notably the terrorist attacks of 9-11, cell phones, and the Internet--but in 1993, the U.S. was in a recession and we were mired in Middle East nonsense...and well, it's pretty much the same today.

I think what it comes down to is innocence. Back in 1967, it seemed like our country still had an aura of innocence about it. Although I wasn't yet born, everything I've read, watched, and listened to from that era has me believing that people generally felt as if everything would be okay. People were still optimistic about the world and about life.

Innocence was lost shortly thereafter. It was hard to remain optimistic in the face of civilian massacres in Vietnam (and at home), the Charles Manson murders, and numerous rock star O.D.s. By 1985, forget it: Cynicism and pessimism ruled. We'd become a suspicious, untrusting nation.

But in 1993, innocence had already been lost, so there wasn't that same monumental change taking place in the 18 years following. We just went from pessimistic to pessimistic again.

Or maybe it just seems this way because I'm getting old and delusional. Who knows?

HEINOUS TREND ALERT: Jeggings

Lovely Brit gals wearing TopShop jeggings

How are jeggings relevant to a blog that concerns itself with all things Gen X, you ask? Well, back in the good old 1980's we lived through a similar heinous pant trend: the reviled STIRRUP-PANT. No one--certainly not today's young, naive fashion victims--knows better than us just how awful leggings-gone-bad truly can be.

Take today, for example. I brought Charlotte to her music class and then couldn't believe my eyes when I saw that the teacher was wearing jeggings. This woman is not exactly over-the-hill (she appears to be in her late 40's); however, she does happen to have a very typical mother-of-two figure (i.e. not a size two). Don't get me wrong, I adore this woman. She's one of those rare persons who is so totally kind, welcoming, vivacious, happy, and positive, yet not at all annoying...so I will always give her the benefit of the doubt. However, she was NOT pulling the look off. At all.

Coincidentally, there was another person in music class wearing jeggings and absolutely ROCKING THEM. The fact that she was an adorable 18-month-old (whose mom paired the jeggings with a darling paisley tunic) just made the teacher's attempt at being hip even sadder.

Basically what it comes down to is this: Jeggings should NEVER EVER be worn. But if they must exist, then the wearer should be a tiny, precious, little girl. Fashionable prepubescent girls can also sort of pull off the look. And as far as adults go, if you were born after 1987 and are a size 0 or less, then you have the right to go for it. But if you aren't a stick, don't for a minute think jeggings are flattering.

Or you'll end up looking like this:

REMEMBER: FRIENDS DON'T LET FRIENDS WEAR JEGGINGS.

Acid Flashback

Fashion is a strange thing, and over the years some bizarre--and terrible--styles have been popular, from harem pants to leg warmers. Sometimes the reason why a horrible style catches on is obvious--with leg warmers in the early 1980s, surely the movie Fame was to blame?--and you can only hope its popularity fades quickly. But other times an offensive fashion trend seems to arrive for no reason and then sticks around for way too long, and when it's finally out you're all, Whew, glad that's over, that was some FUGLY stuff! You know, like bubble skirts. But the worst fashion occurrence is when a horrible, unflattering trend that you had to suffer through once already, comes BACK IN STYLE, making you momentarily wish you lived in Afghanistan where all you'd ever see are burkas.

What I'm talking about, people, is ACID-WASH JEANS. These were slutty the first time around, and not good-slutty like platform heels, but bad-slutty like I'm-sixteen-and-a-Warrant-groupie.

Yours for just $39 at Macys.com!

I first noticed the acid-wash comeback last spring--a little bit in stores but mostly in paparazzi photos of various young startlets wearing horrendous splotchy, ripped, tight jeans. Lindsey Lohan, Kim Kardashian, Fergie--classy gals like that. I ignored it, sure the utter heinousness of it all would render it just a blip on the fashion meter. But now the Fall ad campaigns are out, and acid-wash is everywhere. The ads I've seen seem to be positioning them as edgy and grungy. One Old Navy ad has models wearing skinny acid-wash jeans with long, belted plaid shirts. It's mid-80s Valley Girl meets early 90s Seattle Grunge Chick. My brain wanted to explode after seeing that one.

Most fashion trends come back in style at some point--there was even a scary fluorescent resurgence a couple of years ago--and all you can hope for is that the awful ones are short-lived. So far, I haven't seen any of the teens in my town wearing acid-wash. Maybe they're smarter than that. If not, I have some photos of myself circa 1987 that should scare them straight.