IN THE MAGAZINE

DEAR DIARY

Entry: November 1991

November 1991
Dear Diary,

Halloween was amazing. I had the best time. There was no shit or Nair or anything. On Beverly Hills Scott (David Silver’s friend) died. He shot himself accidentally with a gun. Mia and I were crying. My nose is still running. Today I went shopping and I bought shoe boots and Bass. I really hope I don’t have to use Katie’s old pocketbook. School just started. Whoopee. I’m not writing in you everyday, only when something exciting happens. Nothing is happening right now.
Love,
Lesley

August 2003

So when I was in middle school, if you did not own a brand- new Il Bisonte pocketbook on the very first day of school, then you were basically doomed to be a loser 4ever. BTW, “pocketbook” is the best word. It’s the name of my new band. And does anyone else remember shoe boots? When you wore them under a pair of jeans it was like “Hey! Nice cowboy boots!” But when you lifted your jeans up it was all “Psyche! Tricked you!” A genius idea, to say the least. Unfortunately those went out of style quickly, and Hotdoggers and Sambas came in. Hotdoggers are like Sergio Tacchinis for young, JAP-y Long Island girls. Sergio Tacchinis are what Mafia dudes from Jersey and old ladies from the Midwest wear––sweatsuits that make that swishing noise. So a bunch of little girls got their fashion inspiration from Big Pussy and Dorothy Spornak, but they flip the script by getting them in snazzy colors such as HOT PINK and NEON GREEN, and some even came with an exciting checkerboard pattern. The Hotdogger was what the 80s vomited up for the young miss of the 90s. It’s a good thing I bought those Bass, though. They delivered some desperately needed street cred.

LESLEY ARFIN

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