Pop Culture Confessional is a weekly column where our writers can divulge and indulge in their most deeply embarrassing cultural passion — and then tell you why it actually rocks. Everyone has a few dirty little secrets. Only the truth shall set us free.
I leapt into the crowd, determined to walk away victorious. I gripped blindly into the buckets of buttons and bookmarks, stashing handfuls in my pockets before shoving my hand back into the brawl for a second go. I took elbows to the side. My feet were stepped on more than once. I almost fell as someone crawled between my legs and popped up in front of me, stealing my prime spot.
It’s hard to be pissed at an eight-year-old, though. I got it. I understood. I would have crawled under my legs if I were her. With this, I retreated from the pit and returned to my friends who were waiting expectantly for their share of the bounty. We divvied up the swag. The best thing about the advanced screening of New York Minute was the Mary-Kate and Ashley swag.
If you’ve seen New York Minute, you might think that last line was a jab at the quality the film. I assure you, it wasn’t. I saw New York Minute twice in theaters — an advanced screening is great, but come on, what kind of fan would I have been if I hadn’t gone out on opening night? A piss-poor one, that’s what kind. Plus, having seen the movie already, I was able to go in costume opening night (I dressed like Ashley’s character, complete with bulky day planner and a friend of mine dressed as Mary-Kate’s punkier character).
New York Minute came out in 2004. I was a sophomore in high school. You might be thinking that made me a little old to be dressing in costume and fighting for Olsen twin swag, but New York Minute was the end of an era.
Seriously, Mary-Kate and Ashley owe me a thank you, as a great contributor to their massive wealth. Growing up, I couldn’t get enough of them. I watched Full House religiously, received copies of nearly every direct-to-video release and when I ran out of episodes and musical-filled videos, I gobbled up the book series based on them. I couldn’t get enough. When my parents agreed to let me pick my little sister’s middle name, I chose “Michelle,” because that was the only way to name her after both of them.
It’s not so uncommon for a girl born in the late ’80s to have once harbored an obsession with the Olsen twins. It’s less common to still feel as strongly connected to anything they release as a twenty-something. So why the Olsen twins? Why is this the slightly embarrassing, but wholly enduring obsession from my childhood? I think it’s because I never once looked up to the Olsen twins. They were never my role models. I didn’t want to be like Mary-Kate and Ashley; I was like Mary-Kate and Ashley (okay, you know, except for the billions of dollars).
I didn’t look up to the Olsen twins or learn from them, I learned with them. In To Grandmother’s House We Go, they ordered peanut butter and jelly sandwiches with the crusts cut off and extra jelly. I always wanted extra jelly too! In Passport to Paris, makeup and boys started to play a lot more prominently in their home video series — I may not have been jet-setting around the world, but 1999 was exactly when I started experimenting with makeup and seriously thinking about boys as more than smelly, loud people with shorter hair than me. Every time I changed, Mary-Kate and Ashley were right there changing with me. I wanted to be like them right now, not someday when I grew up.
Mary-Kate and Ashley were like friends, people I wanted to hang out with, not emulate. Sure, now they’re kind of like those friends that went off to New York and got way too cool to hang out anymore, but going to see one of their movies or picking up a magazine that featured them on the cover is like going to a reunion. Today, Mary-Kate is pursuing a solo acting career (sans her adorable other half, she’s starting from the bottom — guest spots and indie flicks — and working her way up) and Ashley is focusing on fashion (unfortunately, ever since I outgrew the Walmart kiddie line, I can’t afford any of their designs — don’t worry, their lines favor Ashley’s sophisticated look over Mary-Kate’s bo-homeless look). Yeah, I keep up. But that’s what friends — I mean, fans — do.