
The year is 1988. Christina Applegate is starring as Kelly Bundy on the hit FOX show Married… With Children. In a effort to raise both her profile and that of the show, a photoshoot has been scheduled that will play up her sexy, bad girl image. Her manager walks into the photographer’s office to discuss the details. After exchanging pleasantries, the two get down to brass tacks.
PHOTOGRAPHER: … so what are you thinking for wardrobe?
MANAGER: I want her to look hot. Real hot. Like, maybe a black miniskirt and a white bustier. That look is very sexy nowadays. You know, in 1988.
PHOTOGRAPHER: So it’s a sexy shoot?
MANAGER: Yeah, but we also want her to look tough, like a biker chick. But not one of those fat, gross biker chicks with a tattoo of a rose on her boob. A hot, young biker chick.
PHOTOGRAPHER: Hmmm. We could give her some knee-high leather F-ck Me boots and a leather jacket?
MANAGER: Yeah, but won’t the jacket cover up the bustier?
PHOTOGRAPHER: Good point. Let’s switch to a vest, and just have it all dangling off her shoulder like she has no idea how outerwear is supposed to work.
MANAGER: Perfect. The we can sit her in an uncomfortable/sexy position in that director’s chair to get the maximum amount of exposed skin.
PHOTOGRAPHER: Of course. What about the hair? Big, right?
MANAGER: Huge. HUGE. So huge we’ll have to do it in the studio because she wouldn’t fit through the door. I’m talking about so much AquaNet that if somebody out in Glendale lights a cigarette it’ll turn everything from here to Malibu into a crater. Her hair should be so teased out and crispy that the guys from Poison would consider it in poor taste.
PHOTOGRAPHER: Done.
MANAGER: Great. What other kind of stuff do you got in this studio?
PHOTOGRAPHER: What do you mean? Like props?
MANAGER: Yeah, something dangerous. Really turn up the juice, you know? Make her a STAR.
PHOTOGRAPHER: Well, we could put her on a motorcycle… Is that what you mean?
MANAGER: Nonono. Motorcycles have been done. I mean really badass. Like a snake.
PHOTOGRAPHER: A snake?
MANAGER: Yeah, a big one. Crawling up her leg all sexy-like
PHOTOGRAPHER: I suppose we can do th-
MANAGER: AND A FALCON, TOO.
PHOTOGRAPHER: What?
MANAGER: Yeah, a falcon just sitting on her arm like “Yo, sup? F-ck off, I’m a falcon.” Have it look dead into the camera, too. The kids’ll go crazy for that. Definitely.
PHOTOGRAPHER: So, wait. Let me make sure we’re both on the same page. You want me to take a 17-year-old girl, dress her up like “a sexy biker,” tease her hair out to the moon, and have her lounge seductively in a director’s chair with a falcon on her arm and a live snake crawling up her leg?
MANAGER: Yup.
PHOTOGRAPHER: Sounds great. This is amazing cocaine by the way.
MANAGER: It really is.



Outstanding recount of events.
I have no idea if that is a hawk or a falcon.
It is a falcon. I apologize for the confusion.
For me, the falconer’s glove really kinda ruins the vibe. I was sold up until that.
Amazing. Has anything been so 80′s? I miss living in the world of this picture.
Assuming the hawk (falcon?) and snake were taxidermied, it’s impressive that she still managed to have the deadest eyes in the photo.
They have to be. Otherwise the falcon would be trying to eat the snake, and poor Kelly would be all sorts of in trouble.
Also – 1988?!? WHEN THE FUCK DID I GET OLD?!?!?
Sometimes I miss junior high school.
Me too, but only when that security guard shouts, “Hey you! Freeze!” and chases me from the locker room.
There are times when I think I would’ve enjoyed being a teenager in the 80s. This is not one of those times.
It was awesome, except for the whole AIDS epidemic thing making everyone terrified to have sex.
But could you still get a handie from a girl in a Falconer glove?
“But could you still get a handie from a girl in a Falconer glove?”
Don’t be ridiculous. That’s what the snake is for.
Adding “get a handie from a girl in a Falconer glove” to my bucket list.
And the best, sexiest photo of David Faustino.
More this!
That whole thing is a late 1980s-early 1990s time capsule.
This must be read super fast in a high-pitched, coked up voice.
Well done avoiding the urge to add “Your argument is invalid” to that pic.
This is a win!
(Sadly, I had that poster…)
Also Alyssa Milano in Devils jersey… [27.media.tumblr.com]
Did anyone else instantly heard David Coverdale singing when this came up on screen?
I’ve seen happier-looking strippers.
Hells, I’ve seen happier-looking guys cleaning up the chewing gum in a shopping centre.
That is the face of a woman who does not understand how her life went so wrong.
Excellent work, Danger, with one note. As a former resident of the ’80′s, I can assure you that we had more than one adjective. It wasn’t until about 2000 that people became unable to describe anything or anyone as anything other than “amazing.”
The coke would have been kickass or fuckin awesome, probably. Not that those are any better.
In ’88 in LA the coke would have been hella-[something].
Coke is always hella something.
And is that backdrop … acid-washed?
I could read their conversations all day. I smell a sitcom here. And coke. Mostly I smell coke. (does coke have a smell?).