Episode Report Card Demian: B | Grade It Now! YOU GRADE IT FHM Hates Me
By Demian | Season 3 | Episode 9 | Aired on 01.02.2001
When I tell people I had no idea who Alyssa Milano was prior to beginning my stint recapping Charmed, they start looking for the crack pipe I must be hiding somewhere on my person. "Get over yourself," they say. "You trying to tell us you never watched Who's the Boss? You never saw Commando? Not even Poison Ivy 2?" Well, that would be "No," "Not in this lifetime, pallie," and "You must be the one on crack, loser." Alyssa Milano, as everyone who isn't me already knows, became a nationally-recognized television presence as a result of Who's the Boss?, the first of a string of family-friendly sitcoms headed by a post-Taxi Tony Danza. The first season of this show aired my junior year in high school, when I was far more interested in such family-unfriendly activities as attending underage Friday night keggers, so I missed Milano's national debut as Danza's precocious spawn, Samantha. Since that time, Milano has, um, blossomed into fantasy material for an entire generation of teenaged boys, twenty- and thirtysomething teenaged-boys-at-heart (or groin), and a considerable number of lesbians. I suppose it was inevitable she would rate her very own For Him Magazine feature. However, with her cover appearance in the January-February issue coming so hard on the heels of last month's grueling interview with her Charmed co-star, Shannen Doherty, I wasn't sure I'd be able to endure so soon another sniggering bit of the sort of masturbation fodder in which this magazine seems to specialize. The cover of the issue itself is appropriately unpromising. "24-Karat Gold!" the headline screams. "Alyssa Milano," it continues, "Made from the stuff that drives men crazy." This of course leads me to believe that Alyssa is composed of equal parts liquid mercury, lead-based paint chips, and Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. The cover photograph does little to dispel my general sense of unease about the entire endeavor. Milano has been styled as a retro-'70s beach slut, heavy on the lip gloss, light on the good taste. She's clad in a strappy gold lamé midriff-baring top with matching bikini bottoms, large gold hoop earrings, a faux navel piercing, and, slung low on her hips, a matching metal chain the photo credits assure me is a "vintage belt from Fred Leighton." Bronzed, waxed, and toned, she looks even more like Andrew Keegan in drag than I had previously thought possible.