SUPERMARKET SWEEP Away the Bad

To my friends who will forever regret asking the innocent and automatic “how are you”, to which I reply with a crying Bitmoji (if you’re lucky and asked by phone) or a tortured text of woe (borderline lucky if you asked by phone and a Bitmoji wouldn’t do) or worse, you asked in person and I gush out glum chunks of why life sucks…..I’m sorry.

I’m a giant drag. Step away from the one with pink hair.

I’m grasping at anything that will save me from myself and the barrage of bad news (Trump! Facebook! Parkland! Austin! Trump!), and one of those things that legit makes me happy is my recent discovery that the late afternoon television gem “Supermarket Sweep” is back!

The 2000 season, the first to be released, is now available on Amazon Prime here and through the retro game show network, BUZZR.

Let that seep in for a moment.

I was obsessed with that show. I bet you were too, if you are being honest.

That poorly produced, yet highlighly entertaining program was fodder for armchair quarterbacking (Why did they spend so much time bagging the croissants and hunting for the daily special? Why not go right for the expensive hams?). We all knew better. We all loved it.

It was so steeped in our culture that SNL spoofed it, courtesy of Melissa McCarthy:

Everything about the Sweep was so corny, but that is what made it so special. I especially loved the matching sweatshirts, layered over what I assume were “dickey” collars, to elevate the cheap piece of fleece to something more formal and befitting TV. Come to think about it, sprinting down the aisles to grind coffee beans and wrestle giant inflatable jars of mayonnaise does requires athletic wear of some sort.

I wonder if this show would see the light of day if it were hatched now – probably not. It’s so simple, so “analog”, so uncool. Which is why it’s magic.

And back to those sweatshirts: Who would have thunk that they would become “high fashion” – co-opted by Gucci, Prada, Balenciaga et al, and have taken the place of the cashmere sweater as the chic, must-have cozy cover-up.

So if you can pry yourself away from Trump’s Twitter tantrums and scrubbing your Facebook clean to protect your privacy, check out Supermarket Sweep. I swear, it’s like eating a sleeve of Double-Stuffed Oreos.

And if you want to dress the part, here is some inspiration.