Any fad or accessory that draws attention to white person scalp should instantly be discarded. White person scalp looks ridiculous. Usually it appears as a side effect of white, suburban youths' rebellious corn rows or dreadlocks (fads that relentlessly triumph over the test of time and obvious ugliness), but, in the 90's, we all saw more white girl scalp than we wanted because of little things called Butterfly Clips. The Claire's in your town had an entire wall of sparkly, neon, shiny, glow-in-the-dark clips ranging in size from tiny to minuscule, and every woman who grew up in the 90's is still finding shards of them in the bottoms of her purses.
One of the seemingly least offensive 90's trends, scrunchies actually embody a number of truly horrible things like, really high, tight ponytails, scrunchies at the base and end of braids, and lamé. Despite American Apparel's best efforts, the scrunchie has not been brought back into popular culture because everyone associates them with an annoying family friend who got them in trouble for something they didn't do in 1996.
It is impossible to take a person in overalls seriously. It's a wonder that anyone except teenage babysitters and Murphy Brown's house painter got anything done while overalls were popular. Aside from making everyone who wore them look like a giant baby, their efficiency was always compromised by the fact that all the cool kids kept one of the shoulder straps unhooked, so that the metal fasteners swung and beat against their sternums. If you were really cool, you hooked your locker padlock onto the dangling strap of your overalls. Because, obviously, wearing locks is cool.
Yes, people still dye their hair unnatural colors, but, in the 90's, it was a requirement that all misunderstood social outcasts went to the mall and bought a tub of Manic Panic in whatever color would most upset their mothers. It's impossible to remember whether Manic Panic was so crappy that it made everyone's hair disgustingly stringy, or if that was just a symptom of angsty teenagers' inability to wash themselves. Either way, there's a reason this look did not last.
The makers of chain wallets took the model of pocket watches and somehow made the opposite. For every austere British man who gracefully fished his valuable timepiece from his waistcoat, there were six teenage boys outside an HMV, digging in their pockets to find the nylon velcro wallet at the end of their excessively long chain. It's probably fair to say that if you kept your wallet on a wallet chain, you had nothing worth stealing in there anyway.