With the news that there’s to be a new Beverly Hills 90210 for the noughties, I got to reminiscing.
The Peach Pit; teenagers DRIVING THEMSELVES TO SCHOOL (surely there was nothing more glamorous to us in pre-Celtic Tiger Ireland?); the fact the beaut.ie mammy couldn’t get the names of the Walsh offspring correct and habitually referred to them as Brenda and Brendan; the fact that Dylan was patently about 40 years old, not to mention the expanses of pale, pale denim for days. But the worst thing – yes, girls, far worse than poor staid, strait-laced Jim and Cindy, distraught about Brandon and Dylan’s 330ml cans of low-alcohol Budweiser drinking and Old Maid-style ‘gambling’ habits – was the hair and makeup.
Someone in wardrobe on that set had a hairdryer set to stun, and she used it. Oh boy, did she use it. Hands up who remembers Steve Sanders’ curly mullet? Dylan’s ‘quiff’? Brenda’s ghostly face of death plus matte brown lipstick combo? Donna’s shocking bouffant dos and heavy slap? Frumpy Andrea’s horrid glasses and shite, shite barnet?
Ah, it had it all. Except blusher. Those poor bitches had divil a bit of definition on their Pansticked faces.
Roll on 90210 2.0!