Bad permed hair Thanks Mom!, braces and eyebrows that have no definition.
9th grade picture:
Bad permed hair *and * a dye joband I’ve been dying my hair ever since…thanks MOM!, braces, eyebrow problems still and shinyness. Oh and some crocheted sweater that makes me look topless at first glance.
However, 10th grade, I morphed. The hair wasn’t hideous, the braces were gone, I hadn’t done anything with the brows yet ( not until after graduation, naturally) but I am nearly unrecognizable. Oh, and the tit fairy showed up. I was so happy!
First grade. I was sick on picture day, and missed school. I got a make-up picture taken, but I wasn’t in the group photo. So what did my creative mother do?
Well, she took one of the make-up headshots, cut around the edge of my head (obliterating my ponytail, I just have very severe bangs and I look like a boy), and glued my head into a gap between two students in the group shot. I kind of wish I could scan the thing, but it’s in a very scary photo album at my dad’s house. Creepy as hell, plus I have a very angry grimace on my face. I didn’t like the way she did my hair. See aforementioned heavy bangs and looking like a boy comment.
Oh, my God, what was with those? I wore glasses throughout my childhood (in the 80s and early 90s) and I somehow didn’t realize until my second year of cégep (1999) how utterly abominable aviator frames are, judging from my photos. Dear Lord I look awful in those. shudder
I like glasses, but the smaller the better, please.
Somewhere out there, my 7th grade school photo probably still lurks. I’ve destroyed every copy of it I could find. I was a target for bullying at that time and some of my nemeses beautifully timed a barrage of taunts so that the photo captures my face twisted in anger.
So there I am. Fat. Sweaty. Purple-faced-and-snarling. Big 70’s hair. Absurdly long 70’s collar points. Did I mention fat?
Just remembering that photo to type this out is ruining my day.
I could easily have done without this one from my high school freshman year book.
That hair hanging down and sticking up in back (although you can’t see it in the photo) is why I finally clipped it short all over and keep it that way.
But, unfortunately, that ‘new wave’ was in Toluca Lake, where the Little Rascals were having their boat race. David, I applaud your decision and wish I had done the same when I had hair in front.
All right. You asked for it. The tragic tale of Time Like Tears, and the photos that go along with it. I want it established early on that I blame my mother.
I was a positively adorable child, in fact my mother was convinced that I was the second coming of Shirley Temple. This all changed over the course of my school days. Third grade was when it all began to go wrong. Note the scowl, the too-short hair, the t-shirt dress with Scottie dog appliques. Observe the matching, handmade hairbows. Then there’s fifth grade, and the picture that has been the bane of my existence…the clear placsic cheapo glasses, the extremely bad haircut for my facial shape, the dress…OH GOD the dress…you can’t see it, but the rest below the empire waist was a 6-inch wide elastic belt over alternating neon green and black ruffles. The horror…
So, I can’t decide which one I hate more, fifth grade or third.
Those are some pretty bad pictures, but my 8th grade photo may have those beat. I sported the super-triple combination of glasses, braces, and hair–my hair is very thick and wavy, and at the time it was just everywhere, since I had no idea how to cope. I had the usual braces, but my glasses took the prize; not only were they the classic 80’s style, and very thick, but they were also photo-gray bifocals, and the lenses never went completely clear. It is barely possible to see my actual face under the hair, metal, and plastic, but even if you could see it, it would be fairly hideous. My chin grew before the rest of me did, and I had a goofy smile. The final touch is the sweatshirt in a really awful shade of turquoise.
I’ll see your Lederhosen, and raise you a white shirt to go with it and a set of Black horned rimmed glasses with tiny footballs on the horns. And oh yes, a younger brother wearing matching Lederhosen and outfit without the glasses. Age about 12. Done in the early 70’s. Sorry my mother has that photo in a album at the house and I don’t have it on this computer. (or any computer that I know of.)
You people are rank amateurs. I honestly can’t believe I just spent half an hour redownloading scanner drivers and finally got a Photobucket account just to show you pictures I can’t bear to look at, but that’s my competitive spirit for you. I even accidentally cut myself wrestling one out of a frame for you guys just so you can laugh at my humiliation. This is me at 11. This is NOT the worst picture of me - this is after I got contacts, for example, so the Coke-bottle glasses are out. There are uglier pictures, one with a purple sweater that’s truly tragic, but I can’t find my mom’s photo albums.
Mom wouldn’t give that one up without me promising I’d put up a more recent picture so you people don’t think I’m ugly. Here’s the most recent one I could find; it’s a few years old but I suppose it’s representative. I’m hardly Catherine Zeta Jones, but I’ve come a long way!
My worst picture: me playing naked in a mud puddle. :eek It’s been a while since I’ve seen it, but I think I was holding an umbrella. If I ever find it, I’ll have to burn it.
I used to think my school pictures were dorky, but now I think they’re kinda cute. In one from second grade (I think), I have little pigtails and a big smile–very cute. I have another one where I was wearing a rainbow poncho my mom crocheted for me. My favorite photo is me and my older brother at Halloween–he’s holding a jack-o-lantern, and I’m holding a very tiny jack-o-lantern. I think I was maybe 2 years old then.
