This post is part of a series on some of the most memorable companies that have disappeared.

How is this for a post-op? "The fashions were too forward," said apparel industry analyst Kurt Barnard. Merry-Go-Round was a huge clothing chain targeted at teens and young adults, one in which (I couldn't make this up folks) my best friend in high school worked, gaining her great respect amongst the shopping-obsessed teens we were.

In the late 1980s and early 1990s, Merry-Go-Round was the darling of Wall Street and the suburbs where Jessica sold $70 rayon shirts for minimum wage plus commission. Its 536 stores comprised Merry-Go-Round, Dejaiz, Cignal, and Chess King, the latter an acquisition made a few years before its demise. One blogger called the apparel "faux upscale" and wrote of the chain's merchandise, "the cheesiest, sleaziest, ugliest and most eye-searing '80s clothes you could possibly find. Velcro closures? Check. Mesh designs? Check. Excessive use of leather? Check. Odd-colored thick v-neck sweater vests? Check."

Sadly, the mid-nineties teen did not want to wear v-neck sweater vests, mesh, or paisley rayon blouses. According to the New York Times, the 1990s teen wanted ripped jeans from Wal-Mart. The company had expanded too fast, too furious, changing merchandising strategies so frequently that its edgy consumers couldn't keep up. The business was so overtly trendy it tipped over the edge. Merry-Go-Round filed for Chapter 11 bankruptcy protection in 1994, but couldn't stay afloat and liquidated all its assets in 1996 when its chief backer, Fidelity Management, pulled its support.

The music stopped for Merry-Go-Round, and all the mesh-covered horsies fell off. None of the children, it seems, cried.

This post is part of a series on some of the most memorable companies that have disappeared.

What goes up, must come down. It was a cute ad. Who knew it would turn out to be so prophetic?

Pets.com will go down in history as a textbook example of dot-com flame-out, going from IPO to liquidation in nine short months.

Founded in 1998, the company, which had the bright idea of selling pet food and supplies to the public via the internet, went public in February 2000 and raised $82.5 million.

This post is part of a series on some of the most memorable companies that have disappeared.

Back in the heady dot-com days of 1999, any parent who didn't want to brave the holiday season parking lots knew what to do: Get online and buy those Christmas presents at eToys.com. Unlike Toys-R-Us, which had recently gone online itself, eToys seemed to know what it was doing. It offered a vast array of toys at reasonable prices, and it got them to you on time as promised.

But by March 2001, you were back to the Toys-R-Us option -- by then allied with Amazon.com, and doing online retailing the right way. In the end, eToys proved no more durable than the Furby -- much sought-after, priced up by speculators and hype, only to ultimately end up in the backyard, broken and ignored.

eToys went up fast and crashed hard, (not unlike a pogo stick), and in many ways it remains a textbook example of the excesses and "irrational exuberance" of the dot-com era.