This week, the FleshEatingZipper staff writes about their crushes from the Bill Clinton, Arsenio Hall, and Gangster’s Paradise-esque 1990′s!
Yes, my 90’s crush was Julia Roberts.
Look, don’t hassle me. Before she was a girl standing in front of a boy, or a girl eating and praying and loving, Julia Roberts was the “it” girl thanks to a little movie about a hooker with a heart of gold. And, yes, I had a thing for her.
Besides, it was the 90’s. People were into crazy things back then. Things like Beanie Babies, Pogs, Power Rangers and Tickle Me Freakin’ Elmo dolls.
Or how about Hypercolor clothes? Apparently, back in the 90’s we liked wearing shirts that changed color with our sweat. It was an entire decade of bad ideas. Chicks wore high-waisted mom jeans and Rachel hair. Dudes wore fashion overalls and high-top fades. We were all dancing the Macarena and doing Tae Bo and squinting at Magic Eye Posters like morons.
Back then, everybody had fallen and we couldn’t get up. We didn’t even know until 1997 that Ellen was gay. We were a bunch of idiots.
So I don’t want to hear your judgements about Julia Roberts, okay?
Anyway, back to my 90’s crush…
I am aware that it wasn’t even Julia Roberts’s body on the Pretty Woman poster, so maybe my initial attraction was based partially on a lie. But Julia was intriguing to me in a different way. It wasn’t just about her looks, although I thought she was very pretty. At that time in my life, she represented this ideal woman to me – smart, successful, funny and beautiful. She set the standard.
Here’s a little story to show you what I mean… I got married during the mid-90’s. As newlyweds, my wife and I weren’t used to being together all the time, so we decided to take separate vacations. I went mountain biking in Moab and my wife went to Los Angeles with friends.
When I got back, I discovered that my wife had put something on the refrigerator while I was gone. It was a large picture of Sylvester Stallone. Right there next to the shopping list.
Even then, I understood the importance of this moment. The gauntlet had been thrown. I thought she was saying, “Look, I married you, but we all have lists and Sylvester Stallone is on mine. So you better raise your game.”
There was no ignoring it either. Every time I reached for the milk, there was Sly giving me the eye.
It was important how I responded to this provocation. Should I be hurt? Insulted? Apoplectic? Should I demand an explanation? We had just gotten married, after all. I was still getting used to the way the ring slid around my finger when I washed my hands. What should I do?
Of course, this could also be seen as a positive. She was establishing a standard for me. Maybe she likes dudes with big muscles who can’t speak normally. Well, I can do that. We should challenge our spouses. Set goals. Be supportive. What is marriage but a give and take?
She gave me Stallone to live up to. Who do I give her?
Well, when my wife came home the next day, she found an even larger picture on the fridge. Of Julia Roberts. Check and raise.
You want me to be more meatheaded and incomprehensible? Maybe you could be a little more like Julia Roberts. You know. More hookerish. But with a heart of gold.
To this day, we never really talk about the Fridge List™. It’s just this weird, unspoken understanding in our marriage. The pictures have changed over the years, but the sentiment remains the same. I married you, but we all have lists and right now this person is on mine.
So you better raise your game.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, according to the picture on the fridge I need to be more like Daniel Craig now… More craggy-faced and stern, I guess?
Yeah, this spousal challenge thing was a great idea. Almost as much as Crystal Pepsi, Zubaz Pants and Waterworld.