Back in the early 90's, I was a huge fan of pink spandex and girl mullets. I rocked the three pairs of multi-colored socks (alternating on each foot) and bought stock in Aqua Net. I was proud to wear pink eye shadow and complementary blue eyeliner and "Exclamation!" perfume was my scent of choice. Seriously, I looked hot and it only took me three hours to become ghetto fabulous and get ready to rock the skating rink with my girlfriends. Yeah, I was only 13 at the time, but DAMN, I could have easily passed for 14 or maybe even 15, just old enough to get me into the highly acclaimed and "R" rated movie, Boyz N the Hood.

Even though I was a young, stylish woman back in the day, I eventually progressed to a more matronly tone in order to satisfy my needs as a wife and mother. Honestly, I knew deep down in my heart that a 32 year old woman wearing pegged pants, an off the shoulder top, and glittery lip gloss probably wasn't going to go too far in today's business world. Do I miss the days of spandex and mullets? Nah. But do I miss what those days represent? Hell yeah! Carefree living, spending time with my girlfriends, chick fights, first kisses and pre-teen drama! I loved being a kid. It worked for me.

Here I am, almost 20 years later, and I'm hearing some of the same things I loved as a teen are starting to slowly creep back into our lives. When People magazine reported that New Kids on the Block were possibly getting back together for a tour, I seriously had heart palpitations for a day. The same old visions of blue-eyed little Joey singing, "Please Don't Go Girl" (via a private concert in my bedroom, right next to my fluffy pink, four poster bed with matching pillows and armoire), flashed through my head. I knew Joey would wait for me and his comeback would prove to him that I'd wait forever to marry and have his 10 children. Sadly, this bubble was quickly burst once I saw current pictures and heard his post-puberty voice. Mother Nature took away my beautiful boy and replaced him with a freakish man child. And, I'm not so keen on having 10 children...with anyone, even if he could afford to pay for my eventual tummy tuck.

And then there was Bret Michaels of Poison. He was another one I found strangely irresistible. Maybe it was the spandex or the smell of leather jeans; perhaps it was the beautiful way he wore his make-up and did his hair...I just loved this guy (OK, let me clarify - Bret was only on the backburner if the Joey thing didn't work out). Bret's now back with his TV show, Rock of Love, and he looks, well, yucky. He's sort of middle aged and bloated looking and I know almost without a doubt that he only wears that bandanna to keep his blonde wig firmly attached to his head. Gone are the day of sexy tight pants; he now goes for a more caz loose fitted jean type material combined with comfortable shirts and mild patterns. Bret Michaels has been castrated and VH-1 is hiding his testicles for ratings. Ugh.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that although the 90's were a wonderful part of my past, that's exactly where I want them to stay. I can't go back and re-live my experiences and when I see some of these past stars and singers try to perk their careers back up, doing the same thing that was cool about zillion years ago, I just have to shake my head in amazement. Let memories be memories and good times be as such. 50 year old men with bandanna attached weaves should not be galavanting around with 20 year old hoochies, singing their old rock songs. It's embarrassing and worthy of a little bile at the base of the 'ole throat. And, no matter how much I liked "Hangin' Tough" as a song, it's just not the same when a 40 year old man is singing it to a 30 year old woman. Thanks for listening. I'm off to find my old cassette tapes and that 45 album of "Talk Dirty To Me."