Double Rainbow, Double Dier

 Red Pompom Bow Barrette

 Red Rainbow Rose Necklace

 Snow Bright Bangle

Sweater: Macy's

Skirt: Dolls Kill

Shoes: Christian Siriano for Payless

Bag: Candie's, Kohl's

 Ballerina Baby Earrings

 Mint Rainbow Rose Necklace

 Clara Cupcakes Charm Bracelet

Sweater: Macy's

Skirt: Macy's

Shoes: Worthington, JCPenney

Bag: City Streets, JCPenney

I've always been into rainbows.  There's a Christmas morning home movie of five-year-old me fiercely clutching a brand-new Rainbow Brite doll and setting up the Color Cottage with the focus of a hibachi grill chef.  My little sister toddles over to me to show me her new Cabbage Patch preemie Noreen Rhoda (the only thing weirder than those dolls' names were their Xavier Roberts butt tattoos).  And I scream for her to go away.  Obviously, I'm too busy seating the sprites at their wavy-edged, pink plastic table.  Does this behavior reveal that little me could be a tantrum-throwing Gremlin?  For sure.  But does it also show my love for the sacred spectrum?  Um, does the hibachi grill chef burn Big Bertha's perm when he's flipping the shrimp and singing happy birthday?

Spoiler alert.  He does.  Sometimes.

A few years ago, my sister gave me this Rainbow Brite Itty Bitty.  Which makes me feel like even more of a villain.  If only I could reciprocate with a bobble head Noreen Rhoda.  If you're listening, Xavier, get on it.

Anyway, they say that double rainbows are rare.  (They also say something else, but I won't go into that here.)  Which is why these twin rainbow sweaters are so awesome and cute and give me all the '90s feels.  (I refer, of course, to fashion feels, as most other feels from my teen years are locked in a mental drawer marked do no resuscitate).

Do you know what's almost as rare as a double rainbow?  Brett Dier's reign on Wednesday night TV.  I know that Brett Dier isn't a household name and that this announcement may be underwhelming.  Also, that it has nothing to do with anything else I've said.  But I'm okay with that.

What are the odds that Dier's new sitcom Schooled and his old dramedy Jane the Virgin would air on the same night on different networks, back to back?  And that it would all be so symbolically full circle?  Because Schooled is in its freshman year and Jane is sadly ending.  (Some) Jane fans fell in love with Dier's Michael five seasons ago and are still reeling from his return from the dead.  Not only was it super stirring and emotional, it put Jane (Gina Rodriguez) right back where she started, forced to choose between Michael -- her husband -- and Rafael (Justin Baldoni) -- the father of her child.  Never mind that she was accidentally artificially inseminated when she was still a virgin, before she'd even properly met Raf.  Because Jane is, as the narrator often and snarkily tells us, a telenovella.  As for Schooled, we're just getting to know Dier's C.B. as a slightly Michael-esque but also slightly annoying hey-kids-I'm-your-friend-not-just-your-teacher-and-I'm-wearing-the-jeans-and-wacky-ties to prove it kind of guy.  Yet nerdy or not, he seems destined to date fellow teacher and rebel with a heart of gold Lainey (AJ Michalka).  If you think that Lainey's too cool for this fool, think again.  After all, she was engaged to Barry Goldberg.  And who knows; she could still rekindle that flame.  Which would leave old Brett (or as my sister calls him, triangle face) to play second fiddle a second time.  Because my spidey senses tell me that Jane will be riding off into the sunset with Raf.  And I'm not sure how I feel about that.

Time to change the subject.

When I wore rainbow-rama outfit number one, I was so excited that I decided to photograph myself in it.  This meant breaking out this here selfie stick, which my mom gave me almost six years ago for my wedding.  I'd never used it before, which is obvious from the frustrated look on my face.  The subpar camera on my 3G phone wasn't helping.  But then I thought, who cares?  The graininess and washed out colors make this pic look like it's from back in the day.  Which is fitting because this outfit could've come straight out of the costume trailer of That '70s Show.  "But Tote Trove lady," you may be (but probably most definitely are not) thinking, "you said this was a 90s look!"  So I did.  But when I wore stuff like this in the '90s, my mom would say that it was just like something she'd worn in college.  So even fashion -- especially fashion -- comes full circle.  Everything old becomes new again.  And like Dier, rainbows never say die.

All of this philosophizing has me craving shrimp. Hold the hair spray; I'm headed to the hibachi.

Spin-off Kilt-er Filter: 90s Knits and Hits

Kitschy Compass Rainbow Rampage Necklace

Top: Wild Fable, Target

Skirt: Dickie's, Dolls Kill

Boots: Apt. 9, Kohl's

Socks: Gifted

Bag: Olivia Miller, JCPenney

Belt: Wild Fable, Target

 Menagerie Madness Rainbow Rampage Necklace

Blouse: Bongo, Sears

Skirt: Vanilla Star, Macy's

Shoes: Betsey Johnson, DSW

Bag: Sleepyville Critters, Zulily

 Black and Cream Dream Necklace

Sweater: Hearts & Roses London, Zulily

Skirt: Arizona Jeans, JCPenney

Shoes: Penny Loves Kenny, Zulily

Bag: Tee Shirt & Jeans, Kohl's

Red bangle: B Fabulous

Cream bangle: Mixit, JCPenney

Unicorn Garden Rainbow Rampage Necklace 

Top: TJ Maxx

Skirt: Arizona Jeans, JCPenney

Boots: Simply Vera, Kohl's

Bag: Betsey Johnson, Modcloth

Belt: Candie's, Kohl's

When I first saw the commercials for The Goldbergs spin-off Schooled, I was like, "What?!  How are they going to have a '90s-something sitcom about Barry's girlfriend Lainey when the '80s-something Goldbergs is still on the air?!"  But then I saw The Goldbergs episode where Barry (who's a high school senior) and Lainey (who's a college dropout) struggle to end their engagement, and all became clear.  Although they're still in love, they don't want to get married.  Because they live in the 1980s, not the 1890s!  Anyway, Lainey makes the decision easy -- or as easy as it can be -- by leaving Jenkintown for LA to chase her dream of becoming a rock star with no more than a goodbye (VHS, of course) video.  So, she's out of the '80s and out of Beverly's kitchen, freeing her to become the new chorus teacher at her old high school a decade or so later.  Yet despite this tidy send-off/set-up, I remained suspicious.  Would Schooled work or merely be a flash in the pan?  Still, either way, I knew I would watch it.  Because if there's a sitcom on TV, then I tune in.  Even if it's one of the bad ones.  

Luckily, Schooled turned out to be one of the good ones.  I don't know if it was Lainey's classic underdog-meets-feisty-fish-out-of-water character, the abundance of chokers and plaid miniskirts, the sweet swell of '90s pop rock classics, or even the appearance of Brett Dier (Jane the Virgin's Michael) as curly coiffed English teacher extraordinaire and Lainey's nascent love interest.  But I was sunk by the end of the pilot.  The haunting yet hopeful strains of The Smashing Pumpkins's "Today" playing as Lainey's students mosh for their school concert instead of crooning a barbershop quartet might have cinched it.  Because although I talk a lot about my love for '80s trends and pop culture, at heart, I'm a '90s chick (or, as Icona Pop originally intended, a '90s bitch.  Why the FCC dubbed that out but let Meredith Brooks belt out her '90s anthem "Bitch" over the airwaves remains a mystery to me.  Perhaps the '90s were a kinder, gentler -- and yet somehow more badass -- time.).  People identify most with the decade when they came of age, and I'm no different.  To this day, when I hear Weezer or the Cranberries or Better than Ezra or any other angsty group of that era, I feel this kind of euphoric melancholy (if there is such a thing), like nothing and everything is possible all at once.  Although I like all kinds of music, it's this stuff that seems the best and most real to me, like it's delivering a personal message.  You know.  Like the super-intense, self-absorbed way you feel about everything when you're a teenager.  

On a less introspective note, in the '90s I was also into plaid minis.  I had dozens and now wish that I hadn't given them all to Goodwill.  Fortunately, like rainbows, chenille, faux fur, checkerboard prints, and ring zippers, they're having a moment again.  So I restocked my closet.  This week I put together not one, not two, not three, but four outfits in which Scotch skirts rule.  Here they are by themselves, photographed Warhol-style:

That said, Schooled has fashion, nostalgia, and nostalgic fashion all locked up.  But more importantly, like The Goldbergs, it's also a (putting on my adult voice now) quality program.  Part of the genius of The Goldbergs is that grown-up Adam's voice-over never tells you exactly which year it is, just that it's such and such a date in 1980-something.  This frees the show to reference movies, songs, and fashions of the time in keeping with the storyline instead of the date without prompting nitpicky viewers to protest exactly when said stuff hit the market.  Not that some viewers don't do that anyway (I've seen that Fan Corrections segment on Conan; I know that there are basement-dwelling Internet trolls as far as a Nielsen box can reach).  The point is, The Goldbergs isn't about being a factually perfect chronicle of what happened during an iconic decade.  It's not The Eighties on CNN, or even I Love the 80s on VH1.  It's about creating a tribute to all the things everyone loves about this decade, all the little slice-of-life snippets that make it what it is in our memories.  Also, the show is equal parts big laughs and heart, which is a sure-fire formula for any sitcom.  No one wants to love a family who isn't funny, just as no one wants to laugh if they don't care about the family in the first place.  And Schooled is following in The Goldbergs's neon pump footsteps.  In addition to offering up relatable and hilarious characters, witty dialogue, and colorful costumes and sets, it continues its predecessor's pop culture pulse tradition.  The first two episodes are chockful of '90s references including but not limited to Kurt Cobain, Zima, She's All That, Discman, and Mrs. Doubtfire.  Also, the first episode opens with Marky Mark and the Funky Bunch's "Good Vibrations."  If that doesn't set the tone for a bitchin' school year and TV series, than I don't know what does.  So, gold star, Adam F. Goldberg.

Can't wait to see what you teach us next.