I love you, Kat Graham. This outfit makes me feel like I’m late for Social Studies:
THE SITUATION: I can’t improve on what our photo service said about this: “Actress and star of ‘The Vampire Diaries’ Kat Graham seen performing with her band ‘The Knocks’ at the opening of the Chilli Beans Sunglasses shop in Los Angeles.” Oh, Kat Graham. Opening a Chilli Beans. I LOVE YOU.
THE TASK: This outfit is obviously straight out of 1991. Our giveaway is a book that involves magical shenanigans. Please share with us the magical incantation Kat Graham uses to time-travel so elegantly between Today and Back In the Day.
THE RULES: All entries must be posted in the comments of this post by 9 p.m. Pacific time on Sunday.
THE PRIZE: We are giving away three advanced copies of Leigh Bardugo’s amazing new book, SHADOW AND BONE, some awesome Shadow and Bone swag, and — to the best overall entry — one $100 gift certificate to Obsessive Compulsive Cosmetics. What’s the book about? Behold:
“Surrounded by enemies, the once-great nation of Ravka has been torn in two by the Shadow Fold, a swath of near impenetrable darkness crawling with monsters who feast on human flesh. Now its fate may rest on the shoulders of one lonely refugee.
Alina Starkov has never been good at anything. But when her regiment is attacked on the Fold and her best friend is brutally injured, Alina reveals a dormant power that saves his life—a power that could be the key to setting her war-ravaged country free. Wrenched from everything she knows, Alina is whisked away to the royal court to be trained as a member of the Grisha, the magical elite led by the mysterious Darkling.
Yet nothing in this lavish world is what it seems. With darkness looming and an entire kingdom depending on her untamed power, Alina will have to confront the secrets of the Grisha…and the secrets of her heart.”
I have read it, and it’s seriously fab. You guys are going to LOVE it. Good luck!
Comments (87):
Doc Mart-i-um Nirvan-i-o-sa!
Tee hee!
Ah to the, tick tock and you don’t stop
Ah to the, tick tock and you don’t quit
Ah to the, 0-12 Chilli Beans shop
Then back to, ’91 at the Peach Pit
THIS.
breaking the tomb spell
Gods of flannel, hear my plea
Power of denim grant to me
Spandex bike shorts, glitter boobs
Take me back to ’92
I’ve made the sacrifice, let me take the plunge
Send me back to the time of grunge
(incantation requires the burning of incense, a Troll and a fabric sunflower)
That is epic
Shorts of spandex
Shirts of plaid
Take me back to when
Fashion was bad
Holy hell. This gets my vote.
knock, knock, knocking on The Fuggers Door
YEAR/SCHMEAR!
knock, knock, knocking on The Fuggers Door
YEAR/SCHMEAR!
Spellbound
Hair of Madonna
Dash of Whitney
Crazy of Paula
“Rush, Rush” to 1991
And when done
Return to “The Promise of a New Day”
Sparkle, shine
Travel through time.
Magical brassiere:
Take me from there to here!
And don’t forget my jorts.
Tick tok
’91
Tick tock
cinnamon bun
Tick tok
glamor spun
Tick tock,
ChiliBeana—STUN!
*waves magical hands in the air and TADA!*
Give me a bra like Selena
A shirt like Cobain
These 2012 fashions
Are really too plain
I want the 90s
To hear Creed on CD
When everyone’s favorite movie
was The Craft – but no DVDs
Send me Doc Martens
I wanna look fly
Shorts like Kelly Taylor
Bring me back to 1995
Eeny, meeny, miny, mo
Catch an era by the toe
When it hollers I will go
With teeny, tiny clothes a-glow
Brilliant! This is brilliant!
A-”bra”cada-”bra”
I want to reach out and grab ya
Every time the 90s call my name
I heat up like a flannel flame
Flannel flame of spandex desire
Kiss me baby, let the boots get higher!!
(To the tune of Abracadabra by Steve Miller)
I think the Flannel Flames of Spandex would be a great name for a band.
A sprinkle of Demi’s fiasco
The twinkle of Victoria’s Secret
A wrinkle in the fabric of time
and the shorts barely covering
my behind
Take me to Nirvana
For I wear the shirt
Take me back years past
Back to your (Oliver) Peoples
Over the mosh pit
and below the PM Dawn
Take me back to the 90s
where I obviously belong
Flannel plaid and combat boots,
Manic Panic, greasy roots.
Eddie Vedder, Curt Cobain,
Back to ’93 again.
Eye of newt
And bra of glitter
Slivy thoves
And boots so bitter
Come to me, oh sprite of yore
Ye spandex pants!
Ye teens so bored!
Call me, woo me
Stop me then
To 93, and back again!
Place the following contents in a cauldron reciting:
*Double, trouble flannel shirt;
Acid-jeans burn, and bubble yum;
MC Hammer pants, and a tie-dye skirt
In the cauldron you go with my trapper keeper;
Bright Pink Scrunchie, and stir-up pants;
Slap bracelets, and banana clips;
A velvet dress and fish-net leggings,
While holding onto my cherry gloss lip smacker
Send me back to the time of the walkman
With the wrath of Amanda Woodward
* Slightly Adapted from Macbeth
I was only 2 in ’91
but why should I miss out on the fashion fun?
Distract any vamps with my glitter boobs;
Lace up my Docs instead of fancy Loubs.
Time travelin’s no joke; denim cut-offs aren’t enough,
got my bike shorts on if things get rough.
Spirit of Blossom, Donna Martin, and even Cobain,
with your mystic guidance I’ll make your fashion remain.
The past is calling.
Hey Kat! Can you hear it?
The days I was Like a Virgin
and I Smelled like Teen Spirit.
Back to the time
we were a Rhythm Nation.
The past so long ago
when sex tapes required persuasion.
Como la flor
for Selena’s top
Demi Moore
for the spandex pop
Smells like teen spirit
for Nirvana’s grunge
Doc Martens and jorts
complete my 90′s plunge
Tick Tock
Cheat the clock
I’m appearing with The Knocks
Retro Rockers
Beaded Knockers
To a spot for shopping gawkers
I have a date with destiny
So whisk me out of Ninety Three
Doc Martins and grunge gear may stay
For with The Knocks I’m due to play
Now make haste to that shopping scene
To entertain excited tweens
Chili, chili, chili beans,
Take me back to the time of cut-off jeans!
Bright blue eye shadow out of control,
Me and my docs gonna go for a stroll!
Chili, chili, chili beans,
Put your graffiti on me, please!
Send me in flannel back to decade nine;
Edward’s chest never glittered like mine!
Leggings, denim daisy dukes,
Spangled bra, and grunge:
Before I tie my combat boots
Take me to ‘91
double bottoms, naught on top
take me back in a lug soled hop
to years gone by and trends deceased
when dresses were babydoll and chinos creased.
I must make amends, right serious wrongs
in the innocent days before Sisqo loved thongs
before the bonds of Hole Courtney love does sever
to advise Johnny Depp against “Winona Forever”
Plaid and rouge, one Crawford brow,
filmic poster of The Crow;
teenage spirits, heart of synth-
etic bike shorts, acid rinse;
strained through combat boots unlaced
folds the fabric of time and space!
I bare my midriff and incant!
Who says bike shorts are not pants!
Bear me back by Chute or Ladder
to the rosy days of denim tatter!
Present fashion is not for me
The early nineties is where I should be
These items I conjure will set me free!
A flannel shirt to banish chills
A sparkly bra to pay the bills
Bike shorts under daisy dukes I shall wear
Doc Martins to keep my feet from being bare
Micheal J. Fox I pray to thee
As I will, so mote it be
Combat boots and crop tops
Operation Desert Storm kick off
Brenda gets de-flowered
Emily Valentine gets empowered
Take me back to when Pearl Jam had it right
Take be back to 1991 TONIGHT!
*~*~*~*~~*~*~*~*~SHIZAM!~*~*~*~*~*~*~~
(Verse 2)
Brenda Walsh
Celine Dion
Vogueing to
Madonna’s song
Titanic, Braveheart, Lion King
Oh Macarena
Come and bring
Me back to grunge!
And heroine chic!
Now slick my hair
And nude my cheek
And call me, woo me
Pull me then
To 93, and back again!
Bra of bling and shirt of plaid,
Who said they were just a fad?
Combat boots and biker shorts
To ’95 I must transport.
As always, and if nothing more, my face is ever flawless…
A perfect 90s mix of Kurt Cobain and Lucy Lawless!
Pearl Jammicus, Maddonacus, Spin Classicus
Backstreet’s back alright
Or they will be this night
Once my spell takes hold
This outfit will be gold
Bra sprinkled in fairy dust
Take me back, you must
To the time when bellies were bare
Oh hey, look, I’m there.
Avada Nirvana!
LOVE it!.
Goddesses past, present, future and fey
As I don my MAGIC SPARKLE CUPS
Carry me forward to the time and the day
When my magnificence will be maligned as fug
Bullwinkle: Eenie Meenie Chili Beanie, the spirts are about to speak!
Rocky: Are they friendly spirits?
Bullwinkle: Apparently not
Ya Odinakovost my bra; ya Otovost my bra–
Moi Soverennyi: What would Genya say?
[ps: OBVS she's all like, what up, Darkling, COME AND GET IT. sad she doesn't know any better.]
Double, double, sparkle and bubble
take me back to a time less troubled
Where Brenda reigned and flannel was fun
And a glitter bra was not considered overdone
Allow my thighs to be encased in spandex
And prevent those fug girls from casting a hex
For combat boots are not just for the Army
As I will so mote it be
Two Gin Blossoms, an eye of Kurt,
Pairs of shorts so tight they hurt,
Bedazzled boobs in dire straits,
A doorway to beyond awaits,
A borrowed flannel, combat boots,
Protection from all dark disputes,
Because when the beasties come out to play,
They’ll turn back screaming “Like… what a total Monet!”
love this one!!!
Yeah, good luck finding a winner out of these CRAMAZING entries! Can you have a 56-way tie??
Shirt of Cobain, Boots of Doc,
By your power, turn back the clock.
Bra of Xtina, voice of shrill,
I am Kat Graham, you know the drill!
You are so precious to me.
Am I precious to you?
Gods of fashion take me back
To circa 1992.
Clad me in a flannel shirt
And shorts both jean and bike
Dr. Martens and a bra
Festooned with glittery spikes.
And when one and all
Sees my 90s look,
They will exclaim, heartily,
“Whoa, what the fook?”
By the power of Janet, I go back fastly
To pretend that I’m her, Miss Jackson if you’re nasty
Oh mother Leia, hear my plea
Ask father Kurt to watch over me
For as I plaidly bedazzle from port to stern
You can see, I’ve a lot to learn.
Accept me Past, a Madonna faux
Accept me Present, with bod of WHOA
Accept me Future, as I fly to thee
Losing my pant-less virginity.
Goddess of Plaid, Goddess of Plaid,
My boots are of combat,
My shorts are of bicycle,
I call on you to make me rad!
Goddess of Rhinestones and Tacky,
Hear my music of grunge,
See my tape of Singles,
I just want to be wild and wacky!
Flannel, spandex, and The Craft,
Kurt Cobain and Rayanne Graff;
Studded bra’s bewitching you,
Send me back to ’92!
Double, double
toil and trouble
Bike shorts burn
on bustier’s rubble
Whither socks?
ye lass adrift
glittering rocks
strapped to midriff
Vedder’s flannel
twixt high and low
radioactive
eye shadow glow
Send me now
from ’90s scene
to accessories hell
sweet Chilli Bean
Yo Vanilla! Let’s kick it!
Alright stop!
Collaborate and listen!
In the Willennium I wanna start chillin’
With Cobain, Axl and Vedder
Gonna audition for a video with Hammer
Flannel, jorts, and spandex?
I think so
Get me to a mall, so I can go
Into the past for some Good Vibrations
Peace out 2012, it’s time for the 90s
Time travel baby, Kat Graham
Time travels baby
Oh great witch of the 90s Melissa Joan Hart
Send me back to the days of Lisa Frank Art!
Make me an outfit that would be proper,
Had Angela Chase been a sparkly street walker.
Oh, unholy goddess of jortex,
Speed me to my cause!
Around my breasts create the vortex–
a wormhole of a bra.
Consecrate my 90s journey
with tunes by Right Said Fred,
and while you’re at it, please warn Lindsay
to stop while she’s ahead.
Flatten my boobs
in a bra by Madonna
Drape me a grunge shirt
by Courtney’s Cobain
Conjure daisy dukes
J-Simps would have on her
Summon me stretch lycra
Evoke Tae-Bo crotch pain
Bewitch me in boots
[K]rafted by Neve Campbell
Prithee make it real
This fug fashion spell
For one should never outlive
1990s sartorial hell
Shiny bra top of ill fit
to 91′ on a whirlwind trip!
(substitute 2012 (said:twenty-twelve) for 91′ for the return trip)
Flannel booty cape – check!
Ready to straddle the saddle
of my ever so magical
time travelin’
exercise bike
If I take a tumble never fear
for my bra is like armor
with it for protection I can shed no tear
So to the glorious ’90s I steer!
“Show me the fugly!”
Hail spirits of a decade past
Entreat thee with this spell I cast…
Transport me to that dawn of days
When plaid and jorts were all the rage,
When Docs-not Crocs- adorned our feet
And bike shorts made the look complete.
In glitz and wire, my boobs encased
My shirt wrapped tightly ’round my waist
Transport me back through time and space
And leave me there on Melrose Place
And if one wish you’ll grant to me?
Give me the body of Demi
For should I land in fashion hell,
At least that way I’ll wear it well
O Kurt! Selena! JonBenet!
Princess Di and JFK!
I beg thee, when the stars align,
To my pager send the sign
For though it may well be a sin,
I long to wear these clothes again!
This is great!!! A real poet!!
I dreamed a dream in time gone by, when hope was high and life worth living.
I dreamed that ;love would never die. I dreamed that God would be forgiving.
Aiming for 1994, take me to a time of Doc Martens and flannel shirts,
but the dash of C & C Music Factory with the bra,
and hint of Paula Abdul with the hair and the makeup!
Oh no!
Shoot, like with all of Bonnie’s magic, I’ve screwed up and landed in 1991!
Gods of nostalgia, please transport me back
To giant cell phones and (squee!) Zack Attack
When Hilary Banks spent cash like an heiress
And we questioned the age of Gabrielle Carteris
I need Hypercolor shirts in neon green
And Dylan McKay’s answering machine
Give me grungy plaid flannel on which to rest my head
And I won’t tell mom the babysitter’s dead.
The incantations are done, man.
Bippity Boppity Boobs
Step One: Spandex, ooh, that’s tight, hon.
Step Two: Cutoffs over that, cameltoe, ooh.
Step Three: Untied Docs will set me free!
Step Four: Sparkly bra can give you more.
Step Five: Knotted flannel makes the 90s alive.
HUH!
White out around the eyes.. sheese..
Oh fug goddess Paula, of ’91 fame;
Straight up I tell you: present fashions are lame!
Take me back to the flannel of the Kurt Cobain lad,
And a face full of makeup to Color Me Badd.
Spandex shorts under denim is what I need, please -
I’ll call one layer “Thelma” and the other “Louise!”
Let starlets today keep Manolos and Choos
Take me back to Doc Martin’s, and no socks with your shoes!
And before J. Lo. Hew made rhinestones too raw,
Take me back to when bedazzling was just for your bra.
“I am tight
I am one too dope for sight
Go back to dark days where flanneled shadows dwell
Return this Katerina Graham Bell
Across time and space
And I, Goddess of Grunge, reign!”
*insert witchy cackling here*
Eye of newt, wing of bat,
Want to be a cool cat,
No, no, not that far back!
(Shit, when am I now?)
(to the tune of “Love Potion Number Nine”)
I loved the fashion back in ’92
Back then the midriff look was tried and true
Plaid could be mixed in with almost all designs
But that party ended, and so did ’99.
Back then my combat boots were stylin’ kicks
And biker shorts were cool in all the cliques
In acid-washed denim, I knew that I looked fine
And in my bejeweled bra- the girls could really shine.
Around school in knee highs, the prep crowd would slink,
While into the grunge look the hipsters did sink,
Kate Moss pushed heroin chic over the brink,
Then stirrup pants, and topsy tails, went out in a blink.
Those Aaron Spelling kids sure had it right;
And all the Spice Girls really kept it tight.
I wish I could go back and make Cher’s closet mine
As if! That look’s over, and so is ’99.
Amazing post Allie! Loved, loved, loved it!
(Dang, but there are some clever, witty commenters here! I tip my hat to y’all!)
Grunge Goddess of Rodeo Drive
Transport me back from Ninety Five
Bra of bling and combat boots
Performing for the teenaged troops
Those vampire lovin’ little teens
Are waiting there at Chili Beans
To glimpse my grungy cut off jeans
And learn what retro rockin’ means
Transportari me ad tempus Carus Horowitz primum edidit verba ‘ut si’.
(That’s Latin for “Transport me to the time Cher Horowitz first uttered the words ‘as if’.”)
Bauble… bauble…
The top’s in trouble.
It makes short shorts over bike shorts
Look comparatively subtle.
Oh, my “Friends” of Fashion Past,
The 1990s are still unsurpassed,
Thus my soul I shall gladly give to you
Even if it leaves my posture askew.
So I pray for a midriff for the world to see
And a bra that flattens ever so waifishly,
“Hit me, Baby, One More Time” with Soundgarden grunge,
For the present fashion trends I simply MUST expunge.
Next, a plaid shirt and Docs will do just fine,
Or maybe a white dress by Calvin Klein.
Next, biker spandex is an absolute must
For in Kelly Kapowski and Demi I trust.
Denim shorts will complete the look for me,
That is, to look like Pretty Woman– before the shopping spree.
Like, whatever, nevermind,
Take me back in place and time,
Come on dudes, it’s time to party,
I got my boots, I’m lookin’ gnarly,
Angela Chase, eat your heart out,
To the 90s, right now or I’ll pout,
We need to go quick or my boob will fall out
[A tweak of my entry's rhythm, rhymes, spelling, and, its ending. Here goes...]
Flatten my boobs
in bra by Madonna
Conjure daisy dukes
J-Simps would have on her
Drape me in grunge
by Courtney’s Cobain
Summon stretch Lycra
Evoke Tae-Bo pain
Bewitch me boots
by The Craft’s Neve Campbell
Invoke fashion hell
With this Vanilla Ice sample:
fuh fuh fuh… fa-fa-fa FUG!
fuh fuh fuh… fa-fa-fa FUG!
FUG FUG BABY!
I wish I may, I wish I might
Travel back in time with my knockers made of light
With the lights on, it’s more heinous!
Here we are now, Kurt Cobain us!
Spiky Rhinestones, faux-outrageous!
Double shorts seemed adventageous!
Mochiatto!
Breast Torpedo!
Doctor Martens!
Chili Beans-o!
And I forget all sense of taste
Tie grunge flannel around my waist
This time-travel has left me blind,
Oh well, whatever, nevermind….
Shimmer, glimmer, make me dimmer
take me back to times a-trimmer
Bite me not upon the neck
but chain me to my casette deck
My eyes are kohl, my boobs are porn,
though in ’91, I was barely born
I call on Nineteen Ninety 0ne
To pull my flannel shirt undone
I summon up the spirit Xena
to make this bra a real gleamer
I invoke mighty Kurt Cobain
to make this denim match my shame
(The combat boots? I’ve no idea,
and nothing for the lycra either.)
Glittering boobs
and combat boots
shorts of spandex and jean
Send me through time
so I may find
the flannel that I need
I adore…mi amor
I adore…mi amor
I adore…mi amor
Sidebar how is Bonnie THAT FREAKING BORING ALL THE TIME when this is the girl who plays her?
In perfect love and perfect trust,
I recreate my spangatcular bust.
To the east and to the north,
I bring my healer’s boots and spandex forth
From the south and to the west,
My flannel and jorts manifest.
Mother earth as strong as our sun,
Now dress me in ninety ninety one!
I feel stupid and contagious, here we are now entertain us