I’m the Kettle

While I was reading through the Wall Street Journal .. err.. New York Times…err..Perez Hilton, I saw these little gems:

That’s right: Breaking Dawn Barbie Dolls.  Eerily accurate, all the way down to the pale, vampire face.

I was fully prepared to share this story and photos with you, filled with snarky commentary, dripping with sarcasm thick enough to choke a relevant elephant.  But then the part of my brain that keeps me from making a complete jerk of myself piped up with five reasons for me to STHU!

All of these lovelies are tucked away, wrapped in paper towel, lying head-to-toe in a rubbermaid tub in my parents’ attic.  They have been loved by and play with by yours truly…through the age of 15.  That’s right.  I am admitting to staging reenactments of the REAL 90210 story lines, with a hint of awful classic late 80s/early 90s boy band lyrical bliss.

I only wanted the Brenda Walsh and Dylan McKay 90210 dolls; I had no need for ditzy Donna Martin, and don’t even make me attempt to laugh by offering me that traitor, Kelly Taylor.  And I didn’t care for the Brandon Walsh doll.  My favorite seasons of 90210 were when Brenda and Dylan were happy, together.  So there was no need to muck it up with her spazzy twin.  Can we just take a moment and admire the Brenda wardrobe?  How 1990 can you get??

1994 girls cannot live on just Brenda and Dylan love alone; there had to be some sort of controversy now and again.  My heart fell for Jordan Knight from New Kids on the Block, so it only made sense that he would be the only debonair wild card who had the power to rattle the connection between Brenda and Dylan.


Awww, young love.

So thank you, Perez Hilton and freakish adaptations from a mediocre movie franchise/the books were way better series; you brought back wonderful childhood memories that should have stayed tucked away in my own bank of secrets.

2 thoughts on “I’m the Kettle

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