Again, I actually wore this shit. I must admit there was a hidden practically of flannel shirts. Not only was it handy to have it tied around your waist in case the temperature mysteriously shot down 15 degrees (which is does a lot in Ontario) but it was also very practical. Any girl who has lived through middle school knows that Aunt Flo strikes at the most inopportune times with the force of a tsunami, and those wings do shit all for holding back the flood. Enter the plaid shirt. Lifesaver, fashion statement, one more barrier for that blue liquid.
In my grade 9 women’s health class we would have analyzed the shit out of this piece of crap. Too misogynistic even for Sterling Cooper, I have no idea what the hell is being sold here. All I know is that sometimes I wear shit like this to the bar, and I don’t have to pay for ANYTHING. Mirrors, bitch. Mirrors.
I remember wearing this sort of thing to school once in grade 9, thinking a t-shirt under a long dress was both comfortable and fashionable. Except all my t-shirts were tie dye, and instead of looking cute I looked like I had just been expelled from a Grateful Dead concert for being too conservative. Long story short, this did not attract the fashionable boys with their white pants and B4-4 hair, but the skids who sat at the back and came to class all high and wearing stone cold Steve Austin shirts. I went back to wearing Gap the next day, but for the rest of my life I will be attracted to losers wearing Tapout shirts instead of nice boys in Armani. I can’t help it, and I blame Seventeen ENTIRELY.
Lori Hoffman from Victoria with Batman. I actually remember envying Lori when this issue came out, because a) she was from a part of Canada that didn’t suck big, soulless balls and b) it’s Christian motherfucking Bale. From Swing Kids. From Newsies. I just looked up Lori on the #1 stalking tool, facespace and for some unexplained reason she doesn’t have this set as her current profile picture. Holy poor profile choice, Batman!!
Hey friends. Sorry for the long hiatus, I could tell you I was backpacking in a remote Nepalese village while on a vision quest with an Australian minister named Chip but you’d know I was lying. What I was really doing was eating chips and drinking Australian wine in the bath while listening to Ministry. So it’s practically the same thing. Uh anyway so September 1994. Jaime Rishar is on the cover, the inside promises us Dean Cain, who after years of handsomeness has been regulated to playing such well known roles as Scott Peterson in the Lacy Peterson story. The Superman curse perhaps?
I want to hate Cameron Diaz but I just can’t. She makes gazillions of dollars for being a terrible actress, is insanely beautiful, and pretty much ruined boy-short underpants for every girl on the planet. But every-time I feel like a bag of crap, I think of the movie montage scene in The Sweetest Thing and laugh my face off.