I stayed up late, the other night, watching The Cutting Edge. It’s one of those movies that always makes me smile, and while there is plenty of the actual movie worth a giggle, it’s more the memory of who I was when I first saw the movie. It came out in 1992, when I was 21. That movie brings to mind my Contempo Casuals and Judy’s fashion choices, clouds of Poison and Giorgio (I hung on to that fragrance longer than I should have), and the feeling that my entire life was ahead of me and that I was on top of the world. I loved college.
My favorite outfit was a black, sleeveless catsuit with a bateau neckline, that zipped up the back and fit snug to the ankles. I wore it under crocheted sweaters, oversized sweatshirts, blazers, and a favorite rust colored anorak in a shiny fabric from Esprit. Sam & Libby maryjanes completed the look. I wore the seams out of that catsuit. Now, even though I am something like 80lbs heavier than I was, I’d still wear that thing! That was the best made, most flattering silhouette. It had to do with how the hips and thighs were cut. I’ve never seen another like it. If I had a time machine, I’d go back and buy one in every size available. This is reason number 11 I shouldn’t be given a time machine*.
My second favorite outfit, a sliver of which you can see above, was a black and white striped shirt worn over black cigarette trousers with the Sam & Libby maryjanes. Those shoes were pretty much my go to footwear. I might also misuse my time machine to go buy some more of those. I loved those shoes.
The Cutting Edge is still great viewing, and even though it is trope tripping over trope, D.B. Sweeney and Moira Kelly were likable enough to make it feel fresh. They had great chemistry. It was like a junior version of Michael Douglas and Kathleen Turner.
Romantic Comedies seemed kinder 20 years ago. In a way, everything did.
In 1992, I was listening to a lot of Then Jericho, Erasure, Nine Inch Nails, Live, The The, Duran Duran, TLC, En Vogue, Bel Biv Devoe, and Billie Holiday. If you’d broken into my car, those are the tapes you could have stolen. No one ever broke into my car. Go figure.
When I went out, it was down to Deep Ellum, where I spent many evenings at the Video Bar in sober pursuit of 1. a better grasp on my Greek vocabulary, 2. a place to dance, 3. that hot bartender (who thought I was adorable and needed to go home), and 4. respect from the girl I idolized.
I learned to use liquid eyeliner when my friend S gave me a pot of her Chanel liner that she disliked.
I went to Manhattan by myself to stay with a pen pal–the first trip I had ever taken that did not involve a family member.
I was wrestling with changing majors.
I was wrestling with the Campus Crusade group, who had (hilariously) put me in charge of a few things even though I was not yet even One of Them.
I was offered a job with Capitol records, by an LA headhunter who had found me through the college newspaper and reviews I had done of their artists, and not only did I say no on the spot, I laughed. About two weeks later I realized what I had done. I also threw up.
Yeah, a time machine could come in handy. Only, I wouldn’t trade any what-if for the what now. It’s fun to think about, though.
*Reasons 1–10
- There is no reason for me to have drinks with Lord Byron.
- Nothing good could come of drinks with Voltaire.
- Drinks with Camille Desmoulins would only end badly.
- Drinks with Rupert Everett while he was still in his liking-girls phase–which has potential to speed up the end of this phase, if a lot of my high school dating is any indication.
- Drinks with Shakespeare (see 2)
- It appears I would abuse the time machine in order to try to make time with a bunch of dead men.
- I love Elizabeth Taylor and would hate for her to catch me having drinks with Richard Burton.
- Using the time machine to find and slap the man who wrote Beowulf.
- Using time machine to lecture self about the vending machine in the motor bank, and reasons to avoid it during times of romantic distress.
- Using time machine to go get my dog Frosty and bring her back into the present for furry snuggles.
The Outside Lane 