Here's what happened. I went in to buy a plain tote to silk-screen with a stencil of my brother's face, like you do. The gal ringing me up — maybe 20, if that — was humming along to some semi-ironic rendition of "What Do You Get When You Fall In Love" on the soundtrack, so I said,
"Someone was just telling me that Jerry Orbach was the first one to ever sing this song! Isn't that interesting?" Or something.

And she shot me a three-second, eyebrow-raised look that said, "You are a loser I don't know nor care what you're saying how dare you presume to talk to me let alone say something so weird and asinine I don't know who Jerry Orbach is nor do I wish to and if I did I would surely be dismissive of Law & Order generally and Lenny Briscoe in particular and if this were high school I could totally be a bitch to you but fuck you I have to wait on you unfortunately but just shut up so I can consign you to the 'weird' category that holds everything I don't know about and go away."

This look cut me to the quick. I've gotten the look before, of course; it was a staple of my teen years. But as you get older, The Look becomes rarer; people are less defensive, or more secure, or kinder, or just more polite. Anyway, I'd forgotten how it feels. Nothing is more dismissive in the whole world. When this happens on Privileged, you feel for Megan because there's no way to rebound from The Look; even if it's based on petty cruelty, it's inarguable - it effectively wins any confrontation. It's like the distillation of some primitive form of irony, Teflon-coated and razor-sharp. There's teenage ennui in it, but it's more than that; there's always a social dynamic to it. Because The Look doesn't exist in a vacuum; rather, behind it is the assurance that everyone else in the world agrees with the Looker, that you are isolated, alone, pathetic. Both Looker and Target know this; therein lies its power. Use it wisely, ladies. Take it from me, it can still ruin your day.

Privileged [Official Site]

Comparing the original spoiled teens of 90210, like Shannen Doherty (pictured) with her new counterpart Shenae Grimes (also pictured) is something Flow TV does in an essay entitled, "Familiar Zipcode, New Bodies: A Critical Analysis of the Feminine Body in 90210.

In addition to the rampant consumerism Havrilesky dismantles, looking at the new 90210, Shayla Thiel-Stern of the University of Minnesota writes, "There is a more troubling underlying current here to examine, and that is the realization of how the feminine body feminine body, and specifically the adolescent female body, exists within cultural discourse, and how it has changed over a relatively short span of time."

We can see this clearly in the two versions of 90210. It is absolutely striking to note how different the young women cast in the roles in the 2008 version of 90210 look than their predecessors in 1990. Granted, fashions and trends change. But put the high-waisted, baggy acid washed jeans aside and focus on bodies and faces. Notice how the bodies of the 1990s females in the cast are proportioned. They have hips, wider thighs, vaguely pronounced muscles and heads that appear to belong on top of their bodies. By the standards of 1990, these actresses were thin and pretty.

The best way to illustrate Thiel-Stern's point is to post the two cast photos side by side, as she does:

People often compare the supermodels of the 90s, none of whom was emaciated, with the much slimmer runway models of today as an example of how much things have changed in terms of what's considered a desirable body. The two casts of 90210, one robust, the other wasting away, show that its not only on the runway where standards of skinniness are untenable for most.

Rich Kids [Salon]
Familiar Zipcode, New Bodies: A Critical Analysis of the Feminine Body in 90210 [Flow TV]

Earlier: The CW's New Shows Are Lacking In Color

Now we have 90210. And, new on the CW: Privileged. As Robert Bianco writes for USA Today: "What an odd America CW inhabits. As far as CW is concerned these days, we all live in a land where most everyone is white, wealthy and incredibly, well, privileged." But one of the most popular shows on the CW has a diverse mix of racial and socio-economic backgrounds, with men, women, blacks, whites, Latins, gays, straights and "fiercees" all working together: America's Next Top Model.

It's not strange that Tyra's show appeals to women of all demographics — my mom loves it, and it definitely has a strong teen following — because it's campy fun while still showcasing real human personalities faced with real challenges. Not the ridiculous photo shoots: The tasks that teach the contestants things like honesty, confidence and self-awareness. Of course, the makeup and pretty clothes can't be denied.

But makeup and pretty clothes aren't enough, which is why Privileged seems to fall flat. (USA Today's Bianco calls it "a second-rate imitation" of Gossip Girl, with "clunky jokes, overwrought performances and a tone that implies we're actually supposed to care.") As for 90210, Entertainment Weekly's Ken Tucker calls it the "Sarah Palin" of TV Shows: "Its main purpose is to remind you of a trusty old product while adding some new vigor and soap opera to the cultural discourse." (Meanwhile, Gossip Girl is earning pretty good ratings so far this season.)

But the real question is: Why can't the CW network take some of the multi-culti, LBGT-friendly vibes Tyra brings to America's Next Top Model and sprinkle them in the rest of the whitewashed (except for Everybody Hates Chris) prime time programming? CW network president Dawn Ostroff tells AdAge that she is looking for a new head of reality. And she says: "Our primary goal each season is to develop shows that fit with the CW's brand identity, connect with our core female viewers and help create audience flow across the week. And 90210 accomplished each those perfectly." Hear that? Adopted black kids (who happen to be jocks!) are "perfect."

'Privileged': The Kids Are All White, And Kind Of Shallow, Too [USA Today]
Family Drama, the CW Way [AdAge]
CW Dazzles in Prime With Gossip Girl, One Tree Hill [MediaWeek]
90210 Review [EW]