Blog by Lindsay West | 26 Jan 2009
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We’ve said it before, and just to prove the theory, we’ll sure as hell say it again: fashion is one big rotating, recurring, mess of déjà vu. With the lords of trend dictation seemingly forever on the rebound, exes we were sure we’d got rid of just keep showing up on those damn catwalks. And, before we have a chance to change the locks and our phone numbers, they’re back in our wardrobes.

With this in mind, it’s come to our attention lately that a former flame has inexplicably inched its way back into fashion editorials, and though we’re still thankful for the memories, we’re not sure how to fit that old high school crush into our grow’d up lives. Vogue does Beverly Hills, 90210? We never thought we’d see the day…

Let’s be clear, however: we’re talking vintage, Beverly Hills, 90210, not the souped up, pimped out, newbie 90210; newly squished into the gaping, O.C. –shaped hole on E4. Because, unless your pop culture periscope has been down for most of the recent past, you can’t have failed to notice this brand, spanky new 90120, so brazen as to broadcast naked, without the ‘Beverly Hills' prefix, nor even the comma.

But don’t be fooled. Though we highly commend its recurring roles for old alumni, this is not the 90210 we’re rebounding with. (Wheeling out Shannen Doherty unmuzzled is a nice trick and all, but really, we’re holding out for Luke Perry. And have been since 1993.) Nope, the E4 trash is 90210 slicked up and buffed out for the Gossip Girl generation, and whilst we’ll probably still reluctantly squeeze it into our hangover TV viewing schedule, we have no business with it here.

Beverly Hills, 90210, as we knew and loved it, was nothing if not a big Super Mario Land where ‘90s fashion went to play by the pool, drinking Bud Light in Global Hypercolour t-shirts. It was acid- and stone-washed 501’s worn high at the waist and rolled up at the ankle, with oversized blazers emitting just a faint hint of shoulder pad. It was big, bold body-con mini dresses in florals that ran from the subtle & sublime to the vast & ridiculous. It was – for pity’s sake – bra-skimming, cut-off t-shirts, which may or may not have said 'Coors' on them.

Now, admittedly, when Henry Holland unveiled his 90210-soaked S/S ’09 collection, we were certainly the ones sniggering and tossing a few eye-rolls in the direction of the polka-dot denim. But cut to forty minutes ago, and the high street’s new season is fit for a Beverly Hills marathon – cut-off tees and acid-wash minis included (yes, Topshop, we mean you.).

So, we can get on board with the floral prints on stretchy fabric, and we can deal with a little bit of bleached out, stone-kissed denim. And if we can just squint our eyes and pretend we’re in a Motley Crue video, maybe we can give a light shoulder pad a whirl after a few drinks. But the cut-off tees? Well, apart from being deeply unflattering, they simply remind us too much of a painful episode in which Kelly gets tricked into joining a cult, and we just can’t go back there. Oh, 90210, maybe we do still love you, but let’s take things slow. We’ve been burned by rolled-up jeans before.