Kangski sez...
Craig J.
Another classic b-boy/beater haircut for the era – shaved on the back and sides, long and gelled on top. Usually gently nestled in a Starter cap featuring primarily either the Bulls, the Raiders, UNLV or Georgetown. Other faves included San José, Miami (the U) and Syracuse. Duke, too, I guess…. but eff Duke, nawimean?
Shit, how could I forget Michigan and UNC? Though it seemed like UNC-mania didn’t rilly get into full-full swing until the early mid-90s. Michigan wuz huge, though. It wuz the Fab Five era, after all. Even timeouts mistakenly called couldn’t dull the fervor for the maize and blue.
This is still early in the 90s – hence the prevalence of mullets. But by the time I graduated, I’ll bet there’s nary a mullet in sight in that yearbook. My own hair vacillated between many common Asian haircuts, usually faded on the back and sides with some gelled shit up front. I’m only gonna draw myself, once, though – every yearbook picture but one I look like a total tool.

Craig J.

Another classic b-boy/beater haircut for the era – shaved on the back and sides, long and gelled on top. Usually gently nestled in a Starter cap featuring primarily either the Bulls, the Raiders, UNLV or Georgetown. Other faves included San José, Miami (the U) and Syracuse. Duke, too, I guess…. but eff Duke, nawimean?

Shit, how could I forget Michigan and UNC? Though it seemed like UNC-mania didn’t rilly get into full-full swing until the early mid-90s. Michigan wuz huge, though. It wuz the Fab Five era, after all. Even timeouts mistakenly called couldn’t dull the fervor for the maize and blue.

This is still early in the 90s – hence the prevalence of mullets. But by the time I graduated, I’ll bet there’s nary a mullet in sight in that yearbook. My own hair vacillated between many common Asian haircuts, usually faded on the back and sides with some gelled shit up front. I’m only gonna draw myself, once, though – every yearbook picture but one I look like a total tool.

Karl D.
See? It wuzn’t all mullets back then. Of course, mad cats had the simple side and middle parts, but them shits are boring to draw. That’s why you get joints like this one right here.
Claaaaasic wigger/b-boy/beater haircut here: the white guy flat top (also know as the “box cut”). And Karl pulls it off, too. I mean, Vanilla Ice ain’t got shit on him! Seriously, no irony or nuthin’. It looks positively majestic. And yes, dude wuz on the basketball team. This one’s pretty flattering, too. I mean, I think dude looks a li’l nerdier in photography, but why not give a brutha the benefit of the doubt? After all, it wuz the 3rd Base era. Speaking of which, Serch likely had the greatest white guy box cut of all time. And anyone who doesn’t agree can get the gasface…

Karl D.

See? It wuzn’t all mullets back then. Of course, mad cats had the simple side and middle parts, but them shits are boring to draw. That’s why you get joints like this one right here.

Claaaaasic wigger/b-boy/beater haircut here: the white guy flat top (also know as the “box cut”). And Karl pulls it off, too. I mean, Vanilla Ice ain’t got shit on him! Seriously, no irony or nuthin’. It looks positively majestic. And yes, dude wuz on the basketball team. This one’s pretty flattering, too. I mean, I think dude looks a li’l nerdier in photography, but why not give a brutha the benefit of the doubt? After all, it wuz the 3rd Base era. Speaking of which, Serch likely had the greatest white guy box cut of all time. And anyone who doesn’t agree can get the gasface…

Debbie R.  
Her real name is Debra, but she’s just Debbie to me. Not that I knew her – she wuz just one of those peeps I knew stuff about. And that’s not to say that she knew shit about me. I certainly wouldn’t dare presume so, anyways… 
Don’t you hate that? Knowing shitloads about tons of people who dunno jack about you? I mean, not hating that “knowledge”, but hating that you arbitrarily (and not stalkerishly, which means “like a stalker would know stuff about someone”) know stuff about her… 
Anyway, she took the same bus as me and lived in a Tudor-style house. My homeboy also had a mild crush on her. I’d also heard some (likely) b.s. about her junior high mis-adventures that would be irresponsible to include here. 
I believe for much of hi skool she wuz Ctrl-Alt-Del, that is to say “Alternative” or “Indy” or whatever the kids call in these days. Or maybe kids don’t call it shit these days, cuz they’re too bored/boring… Anyway, back in my era there were cliques mainly decided by whut music (or lack thereof) you identified with.  
But in this pic here, Debbie appears full-on b-girl, or “beater”. Musically, I guess that’s SWV, Mary J. and similarly terrible early 90s R&B. Stylistically, it wuz signified by bright-red lipstick and the pulled-back hairdo my British friend and colleague refers to as the Croydon facelift (Croydon being a somewhat trashy area, I guess? That’s where the riots went down recently, in any case).
It’s funny how urbanized white trash (or blue-collar folks or whatever modern euphemism you prefer) have basically adopted a psuedo-black/hip hop look that they never rilly manage to pull off, nawimean? In the late 80s, these same folks were listening to RATT, WASP and Poison. By the mid-90s, it’d be Puffy, Biggie and ‘Pac. And yet that scruffy, hip hop trash look remains to this day. 
Why can’t they pull it off? Cuz shit always seems just a couple years outta date. Or they choose to rock the worst possible vestiges of hip hop style – from gigantic Avirex leathers to construction Tims to maintaining the XXXL style of the early millenium. Maybe it’s because they can take a nice item when crisp – a sweet pair of Jordans, for instance – and ruin it by beating the shit out of them and encrusted them in street grime and daily usage. Does this qualify as a racist rant? I honestly don’t mean to denigrate here – just kinda pointing shit out. But I digress…
Back to the Croydon facelift… Mel C, or Sporty Spice, used to rock one. Anyhow, imagine elephant-cords and a paisley rayon shirt and you’ve got the entire beater outfit. Maybe 12-hole Doc Marten’s in a TLC-kinda way? Or some Fila Mind Bender runners. Maybe the Deion Sanders Diamond Turf joints. Them shits were kiiiillled in hi skool. And a lollipop petulantly dangling from those unbelievably shiny lips wouldn’t be outta place, neithers… 
Why is this descriptor not included under “fly girl”? I dunno – I guess cuz that’s strictly the domain of black chicks to me. Kinda like how white guys that rilly wanna be down wish they could call themselves “n_____s” and shit – but can’t (or shouldn’t, anyway). But that’s just like, my opinion, man…

Debbie R.  

Her real name is Debra, but she’s just Debbie to me. Not that I knew her – she wuz just one of those peeps I knew stuff about. And that’s not to say that she knew shit about me. I certainly wouldn’t dare presume so, anyways…

Don’t you hate that? Knowing shitloads about tons of people who dunno jack about you? I mean, not hating that “knowledge”, but hating that you arbitrarily (and not stalkerishly, which means “like a stalker would know stuff about someone”) know stuff about her…

Anyway, she took the same bus as me and lived in a Tudor-style house. My homeboy also had a mild crush on her. I’d also heard some (likely) b.s. about her junior high mis-adventures that would be irresponsible to include here.

I believe for much of hi skool she wuz Ctrl-Alt-Del, that is to say “Alternative” or “Indy” or whatever the kids call in these days. Or maybe kids don’t call it shit these days, cuz they’re too bored/boring… Anyway, back in my era there were cliques mainly decided by whut music (or lack thereof) you identified with. 

But in this pic here, Debbie appears full-on b-girl, or “beater”. Musically, I guess that’s SWV, Mary J. and similarly terrible early 90s R&B. Stylistically, it wuz signified by bright-red lipstick and the pulled-back hairdo my British friend and colleague refers to as the Croydon facelift (Croydon being a somewhat trashy area, I guess? That’s where the riots went down recently, in any case).

It’s funny how urbanized white trash (or blue-collar folks or whatever modern euphemism you prefer) have basically adopted a psuedo-black/hip hop look that they never rilly manage to pull off, nawimean? In the late 80s, these same folks were listening to RATT, WASP and Poison. By the mid-90s, it’d be Puffy, Biggie and ‘Pac. And yet that scruffy, hip hop trash look remains to this day.

Why can’t they pull it off? Cuz shit always seems just a couple years outta date. Or they choose to rock the worst possible vestiges of hip hop style – from gigantic Avirex leathers to construction Tims to maintaining the XXXL style of the early millenium. Maybe it’s because they can take a nice item when crisp – a sweet pair of Jordans, for instance – and ruin it by beating the shit out of them and encrusted them in street grime and daily usage. Does this qualify as a racist rant? I honestly don’t mean to denigrate here – just kinda pointing shit out. But I digress…

Back to the Croydon facelift… Mel C, or Sporty Spice, used to rock one. Anyhow, imagine elephant-cords and a paisley rayon shirt and you’ve got the entire beater outfit. Maybe 12-hole Doc Marten’s in a TLC-kinda way? Or some Fila Mind Bender runners. Maybe the Deion Sanders Diamond Turf joints. Them shits were kiiiillled in hi skool. And a lollipop petulantly dangling from those unbelievably shiny lips wouldn’t be outta place, neithers…

Why is this descriptor not included under “fly girl”? I dunno – I guess cuz that’s strictly the domain of black chicks to me. Kinda like how white guys that rilly wanna be down wish they could call themselves “n_____s” and shit – but can’t (or shouldn’t, anyway). But that’s just like, my opinion, man…