How about, instead of romanticizing the 90s, we discuss them? What did it feel like for a girl back then? Post # MeToo, I can tell you, it wasn’t great. My VH1 VP boss felt comfortable leeringly peeking into a shopping bag of bras I’d bought at Macy’s during my lunch break. I was 22; he was fifteen years older, married, with a kid. I didn’t know how to say no. The boyfriend I had nagged me to lose weight. After I did, we broke up. My Oscar-nominated screenwriting teacher suggested the brunette teenager in my screenplay should “at least” have big breasts. I stopped writing screenplays.