It Truly Was a Spice World
The Spice Girls are, for lack of a better word, the very essence and definition of why the 90’s were the tits.
If you were not a young girl in the mid-90’s, you cannot relate to this. You cannot relate to the feelings of absolute worship that we all felt for them.
I absolutely begged my mom to get me (a VHS of) Spice World — which I maintain was robbed during Oscar season — watched it multiple times that first week alone, and quote it to this day .
I was fully convinced that the Spice bus looked exactly the way it appeared onscreen, including a full swingset for Baby, aquarium for Scary, elliptical for Sporty, and runway for Posh (Because apparently my depth perception/sense of spacial relations has never been very good).
I fully anticipated running into them and being asked to join the band. Or at least hang out and eat some Chupa Chups with them on said bus (like, where would I even have met them? At a club? On Ventura Blvd. as they roamed the Valley in their spare time?).
Whenever groups of girls congregated to play Spice Girls, either in real life or with the Spice Girls Barbie dolls (which every self-respecting girl with a shred of dignity had at least one of), there was sure to be a fight over who got to be Baby. For the record, I always wanted to be Posh, with Sporty as an acceptable alternative.
While looking through Into the Gloss’s truly spectacular TBT , I found what has to be definitive proof that they were, and are, unparalleled in their awesomeness and badassery, and absolutely deserving of the worship of an entire generation. Please examine the photo above.
That is the motherfucking Queen of England, and there are thigh-slits, Wonder Bras, and TRACK SUITS as far as the heavily-glitter-eyeshadowed eye can see. It’s just, I mean, it’s just perfect. I wish I had a more entertaining way of putting that, but sometimes less is more. Or so I hear.
That is power. It took Kate Middleton like 5 years of exclusivity with William to even get to meet the Queen. Even among the royal family they still observe formal protocol like walking two steps behind her. This is a woman wouldn’t publicly mourn Diana because she felt it was inappropriate. And there is Scary with her tits out for the boys — or more specifically, the Queen’s eye-level — caring not at all. Literally in a bra. A very tiny bra. To meet the Queen of England.
And then there’s Ginger, who, typically, had to upstage everyone by bringing out the tits and the thigh-slit. To meet the Queen of England. Sit DOWN, Angelina. And you know what? Sit down, Baby. Is that just a white dress? Did you even try?
Sporty clearly gives not a single fuck, since she didn’t even bother to change after the gym, although she did make the concession of matching her track pants to her hair streaks and shoe laces. Cause she’s classy like that.
And I don’t want to hear about how they were probably told by the record label to dress like that and were maybe even had qualms about being forced to meet their sovereign in their loungewear — that is false, they were expressing themselves because they believed in Girl Power, and even if it was true, well that just means they’re really fucking dedicated.
Last year that little shit Justin Bieber met the Canadian prime minister in overalls. A slap in the face. Overalls, Justin, are you kidding me, fucking overalls? You might think you’ve got the street cred to be rollin’ like the Spice Girls, pulling shit like that, but I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: you sir, are no Spice Girls.
And you weren’t even alive in the 90’s, so you don’t get to wear overalls. That’s our thing.