The Lipster

Last week’s superlative Lipster Virago feature included a shout-out for Peyton Place, Grace Metalious’ deliciously trashy and rather salacious soapy novel, which so scandalised The Man, he banned it. And it’s a wonder Dallas didn’t go the same way, for it’s one of the maddest, drunkest, naughtiest things you ever saw. To celebrate its 30th birthday, here are some clips to remind you just why its heady brew of sozzled housewives, oil baron subterfuge and camp-tastic family feudin’ deserves another look.

The theme toon / the bigness

Dallas’ opening blasts of brass were like a sort of aural E-number for me and my sister, propelling us into an all-out opening credits dance-off every week. For two kids stuck in deepest new-town hell, it was the most amazing, crazy thing we’d ever seen. Of course, the great thing about the credits is the out-and-out, unashamed BIGness. It has swooping helicopter shots of Texas landmarks, suggestively pumping oil wells and big GOLD letters for the starring cast - Ken Kercheval, Charlene Tilton, Victoria Principal. Big names = big acting chops. AND it has split screen, with three action shots of Southfork’s big-haired, bleached toothed residents. These are credits that say HELLO! I AM MASSIVE AND SHINY AND FANTASTIC. WATCH ME AND WEEP, RESIDENTS OF SUBURBAN BRITAIN. Or that’s how it seemed to me.

The badness

Everyone in Dallas is bad. Everyone in Dallas is bad turned up to 11. In fact, the only people who are nice (Miss Ellie and Pamela Ewing, or Pamm-lah, as everyone seems to insist on calling her) are so booooring, you’re almost willing badboy JR to screw 'em over. Preferably in some sort of complicated and pointless oil deal, which threatens their big Texan oil family pride and makes everyone chuck cut-glass tumblers of whisky in each other’s faces and go snooping in desk drawers in oak-panelled studies. Now then, can we assume Paul Thomas Anderson was a fan? Is not There Will Be Blood a lot like Dallas, except with more milkshake and less vodka? Bloody rip-off.

Shopping and champagne

Insipid, whiny Pam-lahh and crazy daytime drinkin' Sue Ellen go shopping for 80s-tastic clothes in this clip. Sadly for Pam-lah, Sue Ellen is a bit bored because it’s at least 10 minutes since she’s had some booze. Fortunately, the shop assistant suck-up pops over with a big bottle of bubbles, after which Sue gets all "Don’t be a nag, PAM" and carries on with her spree. This is probably why she ends up doing quite a lot of midday sleeping with all her clothes on and the curtains closed. She goes totally box-of-frogs mental with booze later on, of course. So let that be a lesson to you.

Dallas goes disco

This clip is amazing for two reasons. One, you get to see Bobby and Pamm-lah doing disco dancing. Two, the music for their dance-floor debacle is a DISCO REMIX OF THE DALLAS THEME TOON. Like OMG yesssss. You might also like to snort with derision at around the halfway mark, when there’s a completely Uncle Disgusting and totally pervtastic bumshot of Pam-lah in her white trousers. They did not do a lingering bumshot of Bobby Ewing. That is because there is no such thing as feminism in Texas.

She's a model and she's looking good

Two amusing things to watch out for. One, the premise, which has Lucy Ewing, pint-sized oil heir, doing a modelling photoshoot. Reality fans will find this about as plausible as Eva Longoria being a catwalker in Desperate Housewives, ie not very. They are both very beautiful, but they are also both pocket people, like Kylie. That would never happen, etc. Two, alarmingly pervsome photographer person, rendered somehow more pervsome with the addition of what I think are Dutch subtitles. Ewww, gross.