In the 1980s, more than even Rae Dawn Chong and Vanity, you were the apple of a peasy-headed, pre-pubescent, kid from DC’s eye. There was just something about you. As a Denise on the seminal sitcom hit, The Cosby Show, you proved to be the most rebellious of the kids on and off screen. You looked like you probably rubbed shoulders with downtown scenesters when you weren’t in that Brooklyn Heights brownstone sewing Gordon Gartrelle and Itchy Amorada knockoffs.
And I loved how you were never willing to mute your personality in a house full of squares. Your hair was short and untamed. Your outfits never matched but always worked. I bet if Dr. Huxtable found a joint in your chemistry book, you would have claimed it. You were sexy before I knew what sexy was. Vanessa was too annoying, and Rudy was too young, but, Denise ahem Lisa, you were the one. Though I was hurt when that ‘roided up creep Mickey Rourke touched you in Angel Heart, and despondent when you married that corny sailor, I never forgot about you.