"It's like...a totally important designer!"

Ahh, the nineties.  Being a kid was fantastic during that decade.  It meant I could wear whatever I wanted and people would smile as I was a funny and charming little girl, not a seriously deranged young adult.   I was introduced to grunge by my older brother and suddenly found it imperative that I wear the same combination flannels and converse--hot pink high tops with tweety bird, of course.  A Green Day shirt was worn probably every other week of third grade.  I sported my side pony-tail with pride and a scrunchie.  I donned an oversized t-shirt and leggings with my socks scrunched up over them and was so hip-happening (in my opinion).  However, I had a fashion epiphany after the viewing of a certain film that somewhat snapped me out of my Teen Spirit obsession.  

It was 1996, and my mom purchased Clueless on VHS for me.  Cher Horowitz became my style icon.  After viewing it multiple times and sufficiently memorizing the script (my first introduction to Alaia!), I wanted to appear as if I had stepped right of of Cher's Beverly Hills High School--even if I was only seven years old.  White knee socks and pleated skirts dominated my wardrobe, and I became strangely obsessed with plaids and argyles.  Luckily, I didn't gain a penchant for odd fur covered accessories ("It's faux!").  

So today,  I looked down at my black over-the-knee socks and thought about Clueless, and how my seven-year-old self would be so jealous of said socks.  My life doesn't look like a Noxzema commercial, but since I can get that pleasure from sliding the same VHS (yes--VHS!) out of the beat-up-but-loved box, it doesn't have to!  So whether you prefer, "fashion victim or ensemble-y challenged," there is absolutely no reason any fashion-loving human being with a sense of humor should by pass seeing Clueless.