|'96 HOURS with *NSYNC'?! Sure you jest, BOP|
After 31 years the technicolored teen magazine that brought you glorious centerfolds of "manly men" in curious poses is dunzo. Yep, Bop magazine is ending its reign and yes, you can come wall slide with me and shed all the tears while clutching onto your Leonardo DiCaprio nameplate necklace. This is some devastating news.
During the mid-to-late '90s into the early 2000s, I know Bop got a lump sum of my "hard-earned" allowance money. Like clockwork, every time I went to the grocery store with my Mom, I'd beeline to the wall of magazine at our local H-E-B and decide on what magazine to purchase. It was either between Bop, 16, or Teen Beat and it was a tuffff decision. But what was really tuffff, the absolute worst thing was having both sides of the pull-out poster or pin-up belong to two different boys you liked. Oh, what an agonizing decision that was.
Still there were good things that unfolded from Bop's newspapery pages. Like all the pin-ups you'd ever want were available and ready to wallpaper your room with or to trade with your friends. My best friend during my Bop years was a girl who lived down the street from me named Jessica and we were like pin-up dealers like our conversations on the bus went like "I'll give you three Rider Strong's for two Johnathan Brandis's". We were hardcore like that.
Also every school year in middle school I'd buy a binder with one of those clear covers, and then slip in a pin-up, or a ~*fancy*~ homemade collage of whatever heartthrob(s) I was crushing on at the time and tote it around. Ah, aimless youth how dare you race out of my grasp!
I thought I was done reminiscing, but I decided to spend some time Googling Bop covers and ended getting swept up into a wormhole of teen 'zine nostalgia, and good sweet lord, what a saccharine rush. I mostly forgot that there were actual articles in the magazines and that the headlines to these articles were, well, questionable. I mean, I see why I wanted to get into journalism later, because these headlines are investigative journalism at its most intrusive and saucy. They were down-right stalker-ish to where it's obvious to me now that Bop was like a baby National Enquirer.
What can't Devon Sawa tell his mom? Why is JTT getting down and dirty...and glory be smut why are there pictures?! And what does it mean to be a Backstreet Boys girl? Do I have what it takes? What if I'm an *NSYNC girl? A 98 Deegrees girl? A O-Town girl??!? Why put this pressure on me?!?
Oh, and don't even get me started on the giveaways. Who won these, really? Probably the editor's daughter. I entered into these suckers and never got a damn thing, not even a signed shot of the members of Five. Still why did I want this stuff? Yeah, I really want to have some sweaty boy's 'snuggly' sweatshirt. I don't care if it's Andrew Keegan's (who I was in lust with for a spell in the '90s) and that its drenched in his Keeganess.
Still I give kudos to the mags for not being ~too~ boy crazy as they threw in articles and pics introducing me to all kinds of bad ass dames of the day, you know like Salt N' Pepa, Liv Tyler, and Alicia Silverstone before all the bird feeding kids stuff. But sadly, creeper questions didn't evade the ladies, even though I'm actually highly intrigued of who was sending roses to Mariah Carey back in 1997? I must know. Nick Cannon must know.
Sigh. Just looking at these magazine covers make me miss this innocent, yet stalker-ish, slice of my tween years. Still it is sad that yet another magazine has folded thanks to another reality slap of the Interwebs, because let's face it, Tumblr, Twitter, and Vine consumes the young-ins and a few Peter Panners these days. Still what's even sadder is that I think I missed my calling to write for a thankless teen rag...but there is still time to put that dream into motion, right?
Oh, one final thing...even though this pic was before my time, I had to post it because, well....a young Johnny Depp picture where it looks as if he doesn't posses a neck is a terrible thing to waste...