Tuesday, June 12, 2012

Stylin' Profilin'

My mom has always taken tons of photos.  Growing up, I hated it.  In fact, in most pictures of me from age 11 until around 25, I look like I'm contemplating a murder.  There are group shots of my entire extended family where everyone is smiling for the camera and I clearly think I'm auditioning for the part of emo asshole number 3.

Now that I'm all adulty and stuff, I love that these photos exist.  My mom has been scanning them and sending them to me because she rocks.  They're fully amazing.  They're soooo horrible and hilarious that they fill me with glee.  There are incredibly awful dance photos and painfully embarrassing play photos.  There are pics of me with claw bangs and zits and braces.  (I think there's even one of me hugging an MC Hammer tape.)  There are some photos of my sister that she would die if I ever posted.  It's just a treasure trove of awesomeness.

Last night the Kings won some big thingymabopper. (Yay, local hockey team!)  Tim was out watching that happen.  I was at home with a cocktail going through these photos when it hit me:  I have always had a dangerous level of confidence when it comes to fashion.  I'll wear whatever I want when I want to, no matter how crazy or stupid or fat or dumb it makes me look.  And, the worst thing is, I always think I'm pulling it off.  I scrolled through photo after photo of me looking like an idiot.  And I DISTINCTLY remember thinking at the time that I was rocking my baggy pegged jeans, pointy shoes, paisley silk shirt combo.  I thought I owned my striped tights, denim skirt, red Mary Janes and leather biker jacket ensemble.  I wasn't just confident, I was cocky.  I strutted around like I was the shit.

And so, I present to you:  red hat, red pants, black boots, baggy white socks, red pleather bracelet outfit of wonder.  Really pops against the wood paneling, right?  This is by no means the most embarrassing photo of me (I will reveal the others in time.  Promise.  Pinkie swear.), but this is SO FUNNY to me because I know I wore this get-up to school and on dates and once to a club where I stood outside smoking clove cigarettes and thinking that people probably were jealous of how cool I looked.  And, in this particular photo, it is Christmas with my family.  For Christmas, I thought, oooooh I better rock my red duds so I'll look really cool while my mom takes pictures of me opening my gifts!  Better add the hat for maximum sauciness!

Yup.

In every dorkariffic picture of me, I remember thinking I looked like a fashion plate.  Which begs the question, how horrible do I look now?  I mean, now I am older and stock full of the lovely insecurities that come from being a woman who lives in Los Angeles and reads magazines and watches television and whatever.  So, I'm for sure not leaving the house thinking I'm awesome all the time or ever.  But, in fifteen years, how many of these outfits will make me cringe?  Today I'm wearing grey skinny jeans and a black and white striped cardigan.  I think it looks okay.  Or, I did before I started writing this blog.  Now I'm thinking it will make me howl with laughter in the 2030s.  I better go Instagram it so old me can have a good chuckle down the line!  In fact, maybe I should keep a clothes photo diary just for future entertainment.  Obviously I've got an eye for style!  I have decades of photos to prove it!

And the longer I stare at that hat, the more it's looking kind-of okay to me and I think I should stop blogging now okay bye.

*photo by probably Larry because I think that's Jean's arm.