On the San Fernando Valley

22nd April 2011

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On Being a Valley Girl

I’m pretty self-conscious regarding my use of the word “like.” Which is to say, any time I use it not as a means or comparison, nor as an expression of affection, I feel incredibly sheepish. This is not unique to me; I think most reasonably intelligent, self-aware young women probably experience some level of embarrassment if they have the habit of using “like” as a filler. But for those of us native to the Valley, this feeling is particularly acute because we know that we are living up to the stereotype of that most repellently materialistic and ditzy of creatures: The Valley Girl.

When I was in elementary school, my friends and I used that as an insult towards any girl who seemed overly girly and not too bright. Wearing a lot of pink and waxing poetic about Leonardo DiCaprio made you an instant target. “She is such a Valley Girl,” we’d say, completely oblivious to what that meant or the fact the “Valley” in Valley Girl referred to where we lived. So imagine my ten-year-old horror when my parents, recounting to me and my sister the story of how they had come to L.A. and gotten married concluded with “…and then we raised a couple of Valley Girls.”

“I am NOT a Valley Girl!” I shrieked, indignant at their accusations.

Of course now, my response would be something more along the lines of “Okay, fine, for sure, for sure.” Because when I listen to the Frank Zappa song “Valley Girl” (the one that started it all), a couple of things ring uncomfortably true:

-More than a few evenings of my adolescence were spent at the Sherman Oaks Galleria (which deserves its own post; I can’t do it justice here).
-Many of my bitchin’ clothes were purchased on Ventura Blvd. (see previous parenthesis).

Valley Girl, guilty as charged. But give credit where credit is due to my fourth grade self; I came into this late. What I mean is, Valley Girl culture was exclusive to the Valley for about a minute in the late eighties. After that, just as an example, we have Cher Horowitz, the protagonist of Clueless, who derides anyone who lives north of Sunset, and yet adores shopping and speaks with the signature Valley Girl inflection and slang. By the mid-nineties, you could find Valley Girls everywhere, not just “in like, a really good part of Encino.” By the time I was old enough to be aware of the expression, it had more to do with attitude and language than it did where you lived. Which is why the movie Valley Girl has always been a bafflement to me, albeit an enjoyable one.

Granted, there are some things about Valley Girl that are very similar to the Valley I know: the sushi obsession, late-night snacks at DuPars, that particular spot where the 405 runs just past the Galleria, and oh my god is that the Studio City Bookstar back when it was still a movie theatre you bet your ass it is! What was strange to me (given that I was barely in preschool when the eighties ended, I can’t really speak to the accuracy of this) was the insularity, and even exclusivity of Valley life depicted in the movie. Granted, I think a lot of that was plot-related (the ham-handed Romeo and Juliet allusions are a bit of a tip-off there), but there might have been some truth to that at the time, particularly among teenagers.

These days, many high schools in L.A. are magnets, so their student populations have representatives from every part of the city. I went to middle and high school in North Hollywood, but a good half of my friends were from outside the Valley. My sister went to school in Culver City, and nobody thought twice about anything but the commute. The Santa Monica Mountain Range doesn’t serve as quite the Iron Curtain it used to; these days its more of an oppressive inconvenience, which makes the places different but (I’m gonna bristle some non-Vals with this one) the people virtually indistinguishable. Hipsters, spoiled suburbans, gangsters, you can find them all on both sides of the hill.

Maybe that’s why, past the age of twelve, I haven’t bristled so much at the designation Valley Girl. Am I the quintessential Valley Girl depicted in the song and the movie? Not by a long shot, but like I said, the image doesn’t ring completely false. And hell, I like the song, and the movie, too (I own it, as a matter of fact; it’s probably going to get a post of its own later on). So I take the name and wear it proudly.

I’m a Valley Girl, and there is no cure.

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