What I Learned About Personal Style From Dressing Up as My Favorite ’90s Icons
— Julia LaSalvia
This week, due to a combination of having too much free time (unemployment will do that) and being hyped up on a smorgasbord of ‘90s rom-coms (She’s All That is on Hulu now!), I thought it’d be fun to dress up like my favorite leading ladies from my birth decade. It was a grueling task — I had to watch a baby Joseph Gordon-Levitt in 10 Things I Hate About You, relive Freddie Prinze Jr.’s sexually-charged hacky sack scene in She’s All That, and dissect Cher Horowitz outfits to find their 2018-counterparts.
Would I be able to pull off such an expert-level-wannabe-fashion-blogger task? From where I’m standing (posting), it was pretty hit-or-miss, but I’ll let you decide.
Cher Horowitz, Clueless
First up is none other than the queen of the ‘90s herself — Cher Horowitz. Cher was the epitome of California cool — fashionable, easygoing, and fun — with an unexpected depth. Her speech on immigration policy that culminated in the line: “It doesn’t say RSVP on the Statue of Liberty” is, unfortunately, even more salient now than it was then. Cher’s standards were high: “You see how picky I am about my shoes, and they only go on my feet,” should be everyone’s personal (and dating) mantra. And she always did things on her own timeline, even it meant delaying certain experiences (like losing her v-card or getting a serious bf). Cher is basically your BFF who hasn’t been on a date in a year because no viable options presented themselves on the apps, and ya know what, she might be onto something.
Cher’s personal style was playful and girly, but also extremely purposeful and tailored to the occasion. She owned her sex appeal and refused to be slut-shamed for it. Remember when her Dad said her outfit looked like underwear in front of the guy she was dating? If that were me, I would’ve run to my room crying (I’m sensitive, okay!?)— not Cher though. She owned her outfits — and her personal choices — and for that, she earned herself the top spot on my list of ‘90s fashion queens.
For my Cher tribute ‘fit, I decided to go with her signature schoolgirl vibe using a gingham sheath dress, a boyfriend blazer, white field-hockey-turned-knee-socks (this was a low-budg production), and platform sandals.
I came to terms early on in this exercise that no homage to Cher could ever come even close to the real deal, so with that, it’s on to the next one…
Laney Boggs (before she got “hot”), She’s All That
Laney Boggs represents all the cool girls that get derailed by their shitty boyfriends (I’ve seen this story a time or two). In the beginning of She’s All That, Laney had her own unique style, friends, and passions, but that wasn’t quite good enough to make her “prom queen material.” #ugh. Throughout the film, Freddie Prinze Jr.’s character, Zach, tries to change everything about her — from saying she should smile more, to giving her a “hot girl” makeover (okay fine, she did look pretty afterwards, but that’s not the point!), and even going as far as to say that watching CNN made her uptight (as a Jake Tapper fan, this felt personal). It was difficult to watch such a unique, already-interesting girl get squashed like that, but all we can do is hope for the best… and by that I mean that Laney broke up with Zach immediately after graduation.
Laney’s personal style (before The-Event-Which-Shall-Not-Be-Named) was as eclectic as her art — she paired baggy-boyfriend-type-jean-overalls with lots of different layers, colorful jackets, and her signature wide-rimmed glasses. She didn’t care about looking “hot,” because she had a lot of other things going on— like her after school job selling falafels, doing weird, quirky performance art, and painting dark (but in a cool way) surrealist art.
For “The Laney,” I decided to keep it classic and go baggy overalls and big glasses. It felt nice. Since writing this, I’ve decided to go full-tilt Laney Boggs and only wear paint-stained overalls and unnecessary layers now. This tribute-outfit (and my new lifestyle) is for you, Laney — to the girl that you were pre-makeover and the person I hope you returned to in college.
Katarina Stratford, 10 Things I Hate About You
When I first watched 10 Things I Hate About You (at the ripe age of eight), I actually liked the younger sister better, but once I re-watched in high school, the truth revealed itself to me like a cracked-open fortune cookie — Katarina Stratford is iconic. Kat’s classmates referred to her as a “heinous bitch” (something I’ve grown to consider a compliment) because she didn’t subscribe to society’s expectation that women should be sweet and agreeable. She always questioned authority, from her dad’s over-the-top, arguably sexist rules, to her school’s patriarchal subject material (Hemingway was “an abusive, alcoholic misogynist who squandered half of his life hanging around Picasso trying to nail his leftovers,” okay!?) and did her own personal reading to combat the primarily male-dominated messaging she was subjected to — remember when everyone else decided to go out and she stayed in to read The Bell Jar? That’s the ultimate feminist power move (and the reason I will be canceling my Tinder date this evening).
Kat’s style was as pissed off as she was — greasy hair, middle part, and trying (almost aggressively) not to be cute. Her anti-consumerist stance meant most of her outfits had an I-just-bought-this-at-a-thrift-store-and-don’t-care-if-it-fits-properly quality to them. Kat’s fashion sense was less about concocting an interesting wardrobe and more about finding functional clothes to support whatever brain-expanding activity she was engaged in — whether it was attending an angry girl band show, a poetry reading, or staying in with Sylvia Plath.
To honor Kat, I decided to keep it simple, aka thrifty and braless. Less is more here — just a Target tank t-shirt and some sweatpants I stole from my friend while cat-sitting (hi Anna, if you’re reading this). I think Kat would’ve been proud of my eco-friendly efforts.
Tracy Flick, Election
Tracy Flick is female ambition personified. Yes, maybe she took things too far on occasion, but it’s only because she knew with every ounce of her unusually tiny frame that she would make the best student body president. She was by far the smartest and most qualified candidate — anyone else getting Hillary flashbacks or is it #toosoon? Tracy didn’t fit in because she wasn’t like other high schoolers — she was serious, knew exactly what she wanted, and was willing to go the distance, whether by using her sexuality to manipulate older male teachers or tearing down her opponent’s campaign posters.
There was a fierce, borderline-psychopathic rage within her that would be admirable if harnessed for good. Another one of her enviable qualities was that she didn’t care about being liked — all she wanted was to win. For women, where being likable often feels so core to our societally-infused-DNA, it was cathartic to watch this tiny, blonde know-it-all go off on people without fearing what they would think about her afterwards.
Now on to her style… Tracy’s fashion choices were as uptight as her personality, and yet, she #madeitfashion because she owned it. She had an I’m-smarter-than-you-confidence that couldn’t be ignored. To become Tracy, I wore one of her signature “excuse me, I’m trying to campaign over here” looks: a turtle neck (collared shirts could also work, but only if buttoned to the tippy, tippy top), a short plaid skirt (in case you need to seduce a creepy teacher), and minimalist — but perfectly applied — makeup. Putting on Tracy’s uniform made me feel energized and also pissed off at anyone who dared to question my authority (including my parent’s puppy, Ruby, who asked to be put down mid-picture… not today girlfriend, not to-freakin’-day).
Dressing up as my favorite ’90s icons got me thinking… What about each of these characters made them — and their fashion choices — so memorable? Each had a completely different style (could Kat and Cher even be in the same room together?), but, despite their differences, there was a commonality — they completely embraced their own style. Whether you’re wearing a friend’s stolen sweatpants or a meticulously planned-out sexy schoolgirl outfit, give yourself a pep talk, take that mirror selfie, and strut it out (*said while doing a z-snap*), because the biggest fashion statement you can make, is being authentic… and if your boyfriend/partner/whoever tries to take away your overalls and give you a “hot girl” makeover, just gtfo.
**Special thank you to my Director of Photography, Laura LaSalvia, who is also coincidentally my mother/roommate! You da best, Momo.**
