I think it happened when I was about 13- coming to the realization that I seriously lived in the coolest time ever. I had a leopard print mini backpack, I was scared to death of puberty and was enamored with the cult of boy band culture. My walls were plastered top to bottom with teen magazines and I knew all there was to know about every member of the above mentioned male groups. There was the occasional girl power phrase floating out of my mouth and mind as well and I was pretty sure I would grow up to be as awesome as one of the Spice Girls. Zac Hanson, AJ McLean and Joey Fatone were most certainly on the list of most likely to be my future husband. My parents were cool enough to let me pick out my own clothes- short of leather pants. So, around I pranced, with my bleached, faded, patched or sparkling jeans and oh so close to navel bearing shirts. Literally, my favorite outfit was comprised of an orange Chester the Cheetah shirt and black jeans that had bleach streaks down the sides and lining the pockets. I just couldn't figure out why the guys teased me about a small, round imperfection of this bleach that lay just to the left of my zipper. Ah, the innocence of pre-adolescence. My biggest concerns usually stemmed from whether or not I was going to get out of being grounded long enough to go skating and, fingers crossed, get to snowball with that special someone. I wrote notes 80% of the time I was in class and knew a handful of ways to fold them intricately. I didn't know how to avoid getting caught with them. Music ruled my world and consumed all of me. I was impressionable, naive and curious. Boys were a strange mystery that I wanted to know more about but not too much. The shows on TV were literally the best in a long time and everyone knew it. There was an edge to the media that made us all aware that there was something dirtier than what we were exposed to, but some was left to the imagination. Too much for such a young age, but not enough to really corrupt a soul, you know? I'm not sure when it all started changing, but just as abruptly as I was thrust into this amazing world, it all began to deteriorate around me. Clothing changed, became more provocative. Music started becoming about nothing but sex. Technology rose and squashed the magic of enjoying make believe and wonder and anticipation of the unknown. I rolled with the times and the punches. I grew up and out of the joy that was my childhood and adolescence. However, I couldn't be happier to see glimmers of my past in this day and age. Sure, all my boy band hopefuls may be married and grown up (as am I), but they're resurfacing in a new an revamped way. Hanson has far exceeded my expectation for any band in a comeback and they continue to amaze me on the regular. The other day I saw a bright pink fanny pack for sale in a popular store and all I could do was smile. True, my childhood is long gone, but just maybe,  the 90's, my 90's,  can live on in whatever this decade reincarnation is that is seeming to occur. If not, they'll live on forever in the epitome of awesomeness that I have stowed away in my mind.