This week’s challenge is about yearbook photos!
Let me start by saying: I have never had an awful yearbook picture experience. Not that I don’t look super ridiculous in some of my pictures, because I really do. And I most certainly went through that super awkward phase with the braces and all that. But I never had any of the stereotypical catastrophes you always hear about.
But I definitely had some crazy taste.
I had Julianna dig up my yearbook from first grade and send me a couple of pictures.
In this first one, we made dresses out of our sweatshirts. How we thought that looked good, I don’t know. (What I always wanted to know was who got to put the caption there? I’m pretty sure not one of us was confident enough to suggest that as a caption.) I remember this day though. We were in the computer lab and my friend Alyssa (that’s the girl in the middle) had been helping me put my “dress” on every day for like a week. On this particular day, the three of us, (I don’t remember the girl on the right’s name; sorry; I used to be so good at remembering, not learning- there is a difference- names) went and showed our teacher and she thought it was the cutest thing; I remember her snapping that picture because she tried really hard to get our “dresses” in the picture. We all had different “style” dresses. It was kinda fun. I just don’t know what possessed us to think that was a good thing to try. It got us an extra picture though. For a few first graders, that was pretty cool. I remember when we got out yearbooks at the end of the school year, we felt like rockstars.
This other one is the standard class picture. I remember my hair was like a mile long and it was so tight. I remember my mom was so particular about our hair and we had to have two hair ties and it was just awful. It always took longer than and 6 or 7 year old wants to sit still. And it never mattered how much conditioner we put in it, it was ALWAYS tangled. Always. And this was a special day that mom didn’t make me wear it in a braid. And, what this picture doesn’t show is that my younger sister, Ali, was wearing a shirt almost exactly like the one I was wearing. My mom always thought that was cute. I usually disagreed.