In the end, Sugar and Spice didn't save her reputation in the 80s. But it serves now as a brilliant, glittering warning. And for fans of pop culture archaeology, it remains the ultimate buried treasure.
Was it a movie? A perfume? A magazine spread? Actually, is the colloquial name for the 1983 ABC television special "Brooke Shields: Sugar 'n' Spice." It was a 30-minute commercial wrapped in a variety show, designed to do one thing: re-introduce the 17-year-old model to America as the girl next door, despite the fact that she was the most controversial teenager on the planet. Brooke Shields Sugar And Spice
That last detail—the virginity—is the key to the special. After years of being marketed as an erotic object, the industry needed to pivot. America was getting whiplash. They wanted to lust after her, but they also wanted to protect her. The solution? A television special that leaned into the opposite of "Nothing" between her jeans. They leaned into nursery rhymes. "Sugar 'n' Spice": The Special Itself Aired on ABC on May 20, 1983, Brooke Shields: Sugar 'n' Spice was a radical attempt at image laundering. The title was taken from the old nursery rhyme: "What are little girls made of? Sugar and spice and everything nice." In the end, Sugar and Spice didn't save
The New York Times called it "an exercise in high-gloss narcissism." Variety noted that it was "less a TV special and more a 30-minute commercial for the concept of Brooke Shields." Even the title was mocked. Critics pointed out that trying to sell a woman who had posed nude for Playboy Press at 10 (in Suddenly Susan ) as "sugar and spice" was a gaslighting masterclass. Was it a movie
Today, at 59, Brooke Shields is the picture of grounded aging. She is a mother, an activist for IVF awareness, and a former Suddenly Susan star who survived the industry. She has finally become the "sugar and spice" the 1983 special pretended she was—not because she is naive, but because she is resilient. If you manage to track down a copy of Brooke Shields: Sugar 'n' Spice , watch it as a historical document, not a musical variety show. See the way the camera clings to her while the script tries to shoo it away. See the tension between the woman she was becoming and the product she was forced to be.
She admits she was working to pay her family’s bills. She admits she didn’t understand the sexual subtext of her early roles. But most importantly, she says that the "sugar and spice" special was a "band-aid on a bullet wound." It was a studio’s attempt to fix an image problem that wasn't hers to fix.
In the pantheon of pop culture moments from the early 1980s, few phrases land with such a specific, glittering thud as the phrase "Brooke Shields Sugar and Spice."