Remember wrestling? No, not the 15,000-year-old, naked dude, Olympic games nonsense. Real wrestling, where overgrown men dress in offensive costumes and pretend to beat the crap out of each other. I’m talking Hogan. I’m talking Ultimate Warrior vs. The Honky Tonk Man at Summer Slam ’88. Brutus The Barber Beefcake-type action. I’m talking about Hacksaw Jim Duggan winning the first Royal Rumble. Nah? Guess you had to be there.

But what about the ladies? I’ll tell you about the ladies. In 1985, a producer named Matt Cimber had a moment of clarity. He wondered, what would it take to create an all-female wrestling entertainment franchise in the mold of World Wresting Federation? The answer was GLOW, a new kind of wrestling league that combined the sex appeal of Jazzercise, casual racism, and the edgy nowness of hip-hop. Nothing before or since has ever been more of its time.

The Gorgeous Ladies of Wrestling was an innovative experiment in dramatized athletics and female empowerment. Unlike it’s brutish male counterparts, the GLOW experience entailed much more than just fake wrestling. Intersecting plot lines, witty humor, and a reality show format kept viewers on the hook for four seasons, during which contenders came and went while others rose to the top. Standouts included the Soviet spy, Nikolai Volkoff knockoff “Colonel Ninotchka,” and a 350-pound Samoan actress unfortunately dubbed “Mt. Fiji.” Other favorites were “Palestina,” a bloodthirsty “terrorist from Damascus,” “Spanish Red,” and the producer’s son Tony, who in a stroke of masochistic genius was leashed, collared, and led around the ring by his partner “Jungle Woman.” Other highlights were the regular GLOW Girl beatdowns dealt to the show’s wimpy male refs, and the zany skits peppering episodes with one-liner gynecologist gags and eye-rolling double entendres.

An upcoming Netflix series starring Marc Maron promises to deliver a polished, dramatized take on the world of GLOW. But nothing can replace the authenticity of the real thing.