Get It Together, Kelly
I loved Beverly Hills, 90210. I was around 11-years-old when the show premiered, so that kind of goes without saying, doesn’t it? But the endless 90s nostalgia is getting a little tiring – Kurt Cobain and Winona Ryder are one thing, but Candace Cameron Bure and Danica McKellar (both on Dancing with the Stars this season) are quite another. Like any era, some things were amazing and some seem amazing by association. (Lainey: how dare you disrespect Winnie Cooper! She knows MATH!)
I never quite cared much for Kelly, the earnest virgin Donna or goody goody Brandon, but 90210 still stands up as a 90s touchstone – the theme song alone is catnip for people of a certain age. And the cast has maintained a steady amount of fame collectively. Jennie Garth in particular kept working in TV and married Peter Facinelli, had 3 kids with him and then got divorced, lost a bunch of weight and did a “starting over” media blitz.
Apparently she’s starting over as a 21-year-old college student, because she was just photographed outside a club in Hollywood. Crying. Flipping off the paparazzi. Um, did I mention she was crying?
TMZ reports that she had an argument with the doorman. Jennie’s side claims that they were denied entry because they were with three African-American men, but the club said they were asked to wait in line like everyone else. A pap on the scene said it looked the entire group was asked to wait. The pap also says that Jennie pulled the “Do you know who I am” card on the bouncer (um, if he’s under the age of 30, he probably had no clue) and walked away in tears. And those tears were caught in these cringe-y photos.
I’m so embarrassed for her. This is some major fontrum. First off, if you are rejected from a club or party, just play it cool! Save your indignation for when you are alone with your friends. Second, if you want to roll up to a club with 5 friends (at the tender age of 42), you better have that sh-t prearranged. You are not Rihanna. I’m not saying a lot of clubs wouldn’t host Jennie Garth – they absolutely would – but taking yourself up to the front door with no prior arrangement is a risk for a 40-something C-lister. It may be a cruel representation of ageism and the Hollywood hierarchy, but it’s also a reality of keeping up with the Junior Joneses. If you’re Demi Moore or Madonna, of course you’ll stroll right in. If you’re Jennie Garth, call ahead. Know your position. Play your position.
This reminds me of my favourite scene in Knocked Up, when Katherine Heigl and Leslie Mann are rejected at the club by bouncer Craig Robinson, who tells them, “I can't let you in ‘cause you're old as f-ck. For this club, you know, not for the earth.”
And yes, some of us are old as f-ck (for the club). But we’ll always have The Peach Pit After Dark.