Tuesday

Sometimes A Picture is Worth A Thousand (Curse) Words

Well hello there - long time no see!  Thanks for coming to visit - it has been a while!  I have been so busy working in real life that I hardly have time to water my blog. I logged on only to find weeds in an overgrown garden.  Anyhow - hope all is well in your world!  I have some funny stuff to share with you today about Picture Day! 
If you've been with me for a while, you know there are few people I admire, adore, and that astonishes me more than the brilliant illustrator Adrienne Hedger of Hedger Humor.  So when a funny popped into my head, inspired by my boys, of course, I had to reach out to her to see if she could make my thoughts come to life.  She did more than that! She made it into this hilarious comic below and it is so easy to relate to I thought I'd get this blog dusted up and running again to share the giggles with you all.  It sparked memories of my own photo day follies - so here we go.  




Part of getting older is looking back at your past and seeing, coming to terms with, admitting, and accepting that you made mistakes.

Some of the biggest mistakes were on Picture Day.  See, there came a point late in grade school when I suddenly thought I knew better than my mom.

My mom was a beautician.  She was a trusted, skilled, schooled master in the art of beauty.  But she was my mom - what did she know about how to make ME beautiful?  She did the best she could to 'highly' advise against some of the things I wore and the way I wore my hair for Picture Day - even though, in the end, I did it my wayyyy.  The problem with Picture Day is that's it - it's done - it's recorded for life.  It may even grace the antique side tables at grandparents' houses, the refrigerator of every aunt, & even the walls of your childhood home in a size to really showoff your teenage pores.  Guests will come over for years to come and admire or in my case, let their jaw drop in horror over the poor choices that were made in that fateful half hour before the bus came to get you to school on the big day.

But wait - let's really go back to the beginning.  Preschool. 

My Preschool pics were lovely - complete with bobby pin in hair and matching dark green Garanimals.  Those were the hot item of the season you know. I still had a full set of baby teeth which really enhanced the cuteness of my smile.


Kindergarten was a decent year for me as well in an -everyone is cute at this age- sort of way.  My mom put me in pigtails with ribbons and some sort of Holly Hobby meets Oktoberfest frock.  Cringe away, but it was adorable at the time.  I had no idea that would be the final year of cuteness in my school photos...even lopsided ponytails and gaping holes where my teeth once were looked somewhat sweet.

My mom chose a Nautical theme for first grade.  I look like a sailor girl.  I have no photo to share, but trust me when I say it wasn't my best.

I think after many therapy sessions, I'm ready to talk about 2nd grade.  This was the year my dear mom decided she would set my hair the night before in pin curls.  Imagine winding up small sections of your hair, securing it to your scalp with 2 bobby pins, and sleeping on it all night only to wake up to hair up to my ears and as wide as the sea. I am posting my photo here for you to laugh at - and I have this - my doppelganger....Alice from Dilbert.



I have no recollection of 3rd grade and I think my survival instincts are to thank for that.

Moving on to 4th grade.


Annie was big that year...so far be it from me to stray from that sort of iconic fashion role model.
I wore a red pinstriped blouse - a blouse - like an 80 year old candy striper would wear, mind you - with a solid white Annie collar and what appears to be a Texas tie gone wrong.

Tone it down, would you Annie?  It's too much for the 9 year old girl to keep up with.


Let me wipe my tears and we'll head into the really bad years.

I can't mention my fourth grade class photos without going down a dark alley of emotional pain and scarring.  So we'll skip 4th.

In 5th grade, collars were worn one way - and one way only...popped upward.  Candy colored stripes and Izods were the thing to wear.  So.  I wore a fuchsia striped Izod with the collar popped...the only big difference between me - and the cute preppy girls in my class?  My big fat Greek moustache.

I need a sip of my calming tea.

There - I'm ready for 6th grade.

Okay so 6th grade is when I started to decide that I knew best and my mom knew nothing.  I mean, she wouldn't let me buy the red leather 1000 zipper Michael Jackson jacket, or the expensive, already ripped, off-the-shoulder, inappropriate for my age Jennifer Beals Flashdance sweatshirt, and she also nixed the Culture Club hat with matching headbands of neon.  So I needed to take matters into my own hands for 5th grade. 

I would channel....
(I need everyone quiet for this please.)

MADONNA.

I know you are wondering - which Madonna? There are so many!
I am sad to say, it was the black fishnet top clad, gummy bracelet wearin', huge black bow in hair stylin', large cross earrings - Madonna.

I came out in it only to shock and awe my mom - before shock and awe was even a thing.

NO.  ABSOLUTELY NOT.  TRY AGAIN.

We compromised.  I put on a pair of earrings that I can only describe as fishing lures - and put a BLUE izod on UNDER the fishnet top, popped the collar - and my mom shook her head and let me go.

My friends, that outfit didn't look nearly as cool as I thought it did.  In fact it was so bad, that I don't even know if I own a single copy of that photo as they were burned with some notes from an old crush.  Better off burned, I say.


In the mid 80s, I had a choice of which fashion icon to model my photo after.  I had
Whitney....

or Heart...

or Steve Perry...
At least I had the sideburns to really pull this look off.


 In the end I would end up looking like the product of a Steve Perry/Whitney Houston love child gone wrong.  Fast forward to the very bad hair karma of the late 80s and early 90s and you end up with this beauty of a Senior Picture done by a PROFESSIONAL.  Here - hold this grid.  Yes, that is perfect.  Oh and let's have a sharp glass rectangle-type prison shank looking as though it is falling and might impale you for dramatic effect.  The crinkled up paper on the backdrop is very much in style as well.

I give to you - my final wrong doing of my Picture Day follies - the Senior Pic.
Don't mind the glare from my cell phone - that's not the Holy Ghost or anything.  But getting back to the "What's wrong with this photo?" game.  Why would I wear a dolman - did I have 30 inches of arm to cover?  The flat herringbone gold chain screams early 90s, the hair is as hard as a rock, and those are eyebrows, not caterpillars - thankyouverymuch.


Besides Preschool and Kindergarten, there are no photos that I look back on with pride and joy. I am certain, now, at 41 years old, that I have ONLY MYSELF to blame - and I SHOULD'VE LISTENED TO MY MOTHER.  There, I said it.

So I will continue to micromanage my boys on picture day to prevent them from leading a life of photographical regret due to emotional and not-fully thought out decisions on the morning of picture day.  In a nutshell, just to recap,  no my love, you cannot wear your dirty soccer jersey from last night's game. 

Here are two of my boys this morning before they left for picture day.  How did I do?
Not too bad.  Only one bottle of hair gel lost its life in the making.
My babies...with faces like these - I ALMOST let them wear whatever crazy thing they picked out...soon enough, soon enough.


Big hugs - UNTIL NEXT TIME!  Say cheese! Or is it Cheese-y?
xoxo
DG
Bad Picture Days be damned - we turned out okay.


Check out my dear friend Adrienne and her hilarious comics at  Hedger Humor
on Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/HedgerHumor
Twitter - @adriennehedger
http://www.adriennehedger.com/