So you’re thinking, Aunt Becky, it’s time to put up some REALLY BAD pictures of you as a kid. You know, shitty perm jobs and aqua-netted bangs and french rolled jeans and maybe some Blossom-style headbands, but I don’t have any of those.
I was a CHILD of the 80’s, but I wasn’t allowed a perm. Probably because my mother was actually smart and realized that I would look like a Koosh ball if I’d gotten one. I have thick hair. Instead, I had bangs that started at approximately the nape of my neck and teeth that stuck out like the claw end of a hammer.
But I don’t have those snaps either. It’s not because I’m trying to spare myself the pain and agony of showing The Internet that I am not perfect, because shit, I think I passed trying pretend to be perfect, uh, in 2004 when I started blogging about The Wet Spot.
So let’s start with what I DO have. Aunt Becky, circa 1985. It appears that it’s my birthday and that it’s my party and I’ll cry if I want to. Probably because no one is sitting with me.
Or maybe I am crying because my mother is forcing us to sit on lawn chairs in the house.
The obligatory “I am drunk and annoying on Halloween” shot. HELL, my undies are hanging out. This is probably why my 5 year old self is crying.
This was as close as I could get to “funny hair pictures” because, well, look at it. It’s my homecoming picture! My awesome tiara says it all. It says “I am awesome. Obviously.” But my dress is from Ann Taylor and it’s not embarrassing. Yet. But I could fucking smile, no?
Now THIS pictures says “I have a friend who is in Photography class” now doesn’t it? The black -n- white photography, the subject in the woods, it just SCREAMS ‘high school photography class’ to me.
So I am challenging you to a duel, The Internet. OUTDO my sorry stash of embarrassing pictures. That isn’t hard. I will continue my hunt as I search for how to become certified as a disaster preparedness RN (I wanted to go to Haiti, but can’t seem to find a way to get there).
If you find something cringe-worthy, leave a link to it in the comments and we can have a fashion party of all of our awesome pictures. I’m certain that you can outdo me.
At Skirt! I’m talking about how it takes a village. Even if it’s not the village I’d planned on.