Like many fashion crazes, I'm almost completely sure that this one began as a way to conceal illicit behavior. How could someone wearing pants that wide NOT be up to something totally shady? Also, I think my little sister has the dresser in the background.

Back when these pants were popular, in the second half of the 90s, 20/20 did a special report on Latino gangs in Southern California. Out there, the girls wore their pants so wide that they STAPLED them to their SHOES to prevent EXCESSIVE MOVEMENT. So innovative.

All you need to complete this outfit is an oversized polo shirt and a Nautica or Tommy Hilfiger boating jacket.

It doesn't matter if you've never set foot on a seafaring vessel, or that the jackets are not suitable for any temperatures below 50 degrees. Just focus on how awesome you look. Full disclosure: I owned the red one in 7th grade.

Even though we lived in a climate where these shoes were even plausibly a good idea (sandy beaches, lots of ocean, also the added bonus of avoiding a sandal tan), I think we all knew deep down inside that wearing plastic t-strap sandals was something that we would all someday regret. Sometimes that regret even came less than 24 hours later, while you were soaking your blistered feet in an Epsom salt bath. (But they just looked so cute with your floral-print baby doll dress!

So needless to say, I am a little skeptical of the newly resurrected House of Style doing a segment on the comeback of the jelly sandal.

However, they also did a segment on friendship bracelets, and as we well know, those will be awesome always and forever (or 637, if you will).

Friendship bracelets. You know exactly what I'm talking about.

First came the trip to Michaels for the following supplies:

You probably taped the knotted end of your newest project to the underside of your desk, to be worked on whenever the teacher wasn't looking. If you were really seriously anal retentive like me, you had a clipboard. After some nimble finger work, you'd end up feeling like you accomplished something and were ready to share it with the world.


Finished product, ready for your BFF of the week. (final photo from wikiHow; all others from Joann product pages)

Sanrio tins were all the rage in 1996. Where I went to middle school, in Chesapeake, there was a very small Filipino population, so we banded together in the only way we knew how: by not telling the white girls where to buy Sanrio. Oh, they would beg. "Pleeeease tell us where you bought your purse!" But no, I had been sworn to secrecy by my older sister and my Filipino friends. They would have to be happy with their Girl Scout uniforms and Baptist church youth group meetings. They may have had the collective wealth of white America at their backs, but I, I had my Sanrio tin. "Vivian, that is so racist." Yes, we were incredibly racist.

(Image via Hello Kitty Junkie)