Right, so once again I find out a day late and a dollar short that it’s De-Lurking Week. But I would hereby like to offer you the chance to de-lurk! De-lurk I say! This is the one time of year I get to know who visits here and I’m going to milk it, baby. You don’t even have to leave a legit email address, your anonymity is safe! I mean, you know what kind of tampons I use (Lillets Super Ultra Plus Deluxe Mega Uber Bichon Frise. Don’t leave home without ‘em.) The least you can do is say hi.
Now, I know I promised International Internet Reveal Your Horrid Teenage Years Picture Day (it’s not an international holiday so much as something I just made up). And it’s here, on this blog, ready for your perusal. Just wait to break up with me until the end, ok? We’re talking real horror here. We’re talking “I know it’s not you, I know it’s me.” If you ever, for one moment, thought I had a modicum of cool then this post is here to disabuse you of that notion.
You ready?
I’ll wait here a minute while you compose yourself.
No, you missed a spot. OK, there.
Right. Let’s go in easy, shall we? Calmly. Gently into the night.
I offer a toe in the water that I like to call Mullet Meets Moon Boot:
See? It’s not so bad, is it? I mean, yes. I am wearing moon boots. And yes, my hair could benefit from some volume or, you know, a quick combing might do. And I do indeed have my sweater jauntily tied around my waist a-la 1980′s, although at least I am not wearing my sunglasses on my head in a pointless exercise of using them as a headband, as I was very prone to doing.
That wasn’t so bad, was it?
Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaghhhhhhhh! Oh God, my eyes! My eyes! They’re burning! Dear Christ, save the children! The horror! Get the holy water!
That would be me in what I like to call The Dumpy Phase. Perm – oh, sweet misguided youth – settled upon my hair like a mantle of chemical horror. I would tell you about my eyebrows, only my giant fuck-off glasses cover them. And for reasons I will never know I am wearing white tights under culottes. Culottes, people! And there is photographic evidence! I’m so awful you don’t even notice the macrame plant holder behind me, all the rage in modern chic I understand.
The knock-knees kill me. And perhaps it’s best you can’t see my feet. I don’t know for sure but I’m betting there were velcro tennis shoes on those bad boys.
Oh you think that was the easy part.
You would be wrong.
Because I wasn’t just a dick. I was a dick with a flute.
It isn’t often that you can point to a photo and say the coolest thing about it is, indeed, a woodwind instrument. But now you can, for not only is the perm, the glasses, and the inexplicable pair of white tights still there (ending rather unfortunately in white shoes, and not just white shoes but white jelly shoes, undoubtedly well before Labor Day), but I am wearing a frumpy white shirt and grey corduroy skirt that would make a Victorian woman swoon with envy. I am standing in front of my favorite crabapple tree at our home on base (USAFA, to be exact), which is where I used to spend most of my summer days up, eating crabapples and reading books, because I was a friendless loser.
I wasn’t just a dork.
I was a dork in a band.
What was that? You wanted a close up?
OK then, but it’s your retinas.
I warned you, didn’t I? Didn’t I? I told you it was bad, you strayed here of your own volition!
I am indeed standing there with a perm so tight it makes Robin Williams’ chest hair look low key. Not just that, but there was a very good chance my head would be meeting up with a tube of Alberto’s VO5 hot oil treatment that evening, which you’d heat in a glass of hot water and then wonder what all the fuss was about. I didn’t even brush my hair, I used a pick. A pick, people.
The shame.
Those glasses are, in fact, eating my face. But perhaps more noticable than the hair, the glasses, or the ridiculous fucking unicorn on my nerdy pink shirt, is the set of metal trying to take me over like that scary chick in Superman 3.
Just to show that I did indeed change, although it’s debateable if I made a change for the worse or not, I give you the following of me at 17:
At least we can say that the hair was improving even though you can clearly see the line where my hair was growing out of That Sun-In Phase Of Which We Shall Not Speak. The braces were gone but I’d probably stopped wearing my retainer by this stage, which my now prominent front teeth say thank you for. So at least that’s an improvement.
But let’s just look at the clothes, shall we? Starting at the top, I’m wearing a red shirt. Not too bad, and we can overlook the crystal hung around my neck. Crystals were cool then, especially amongst artsy folk, and I was in drama at this stage and pretty much the stereotype for the word “drama queen”. The shirt and the necklace are mostly ok.
Then it gets weird. I am in acid-wash jean shorts (may acid wash die and never come back) with a waistband so high they’re clearly looking to meet up with my boobs. And I have a thick elastic red belt over my shorts, because jean shorts need just that little bit of extra. And leggings.
I am wearing leggings under shorts.
I seriously have nothing to say in my defense to that.
There you have it. You can break up with me now, I’m ready. This was another of my big skeletons in my cloest, it was bound to happen.
Go on. I’ve got the tissues ready.
If you take up the International Internet Reveal Your Horrid Teenage Years Picture Day challenge, let me know in the comments – it’s a sort of “I’ve shown you mine, now you show me yours”. I want to see what my fabulous photos are up against because unless you really bring it, you’ve got nothing on my teen years.
Oh, and de-lurk, yeah?
-H.
I’m 24, live in Montreal, and have read every day or so for a couple years. Hi! I must concur with Paula re: your 80′s getups (well, the teen one at least). You looked hot, and I guarantee if someone here showed up at a club in that outfit they’d make the Vice “do’s”. Funny, huh?
Another de-lurker – this one from the Lake District.. I found your blog from your other site and never miss a word – thanks a million!
I’m 26 and I live in Ontario – in the North -where it’s cold! I love checking in everyday to read your writing. As for high school fashion horrors…2 words: plazo pants.
I’ve commented every now and again, but mostly I lurk in the shadows. So I’ll bite the bullet and post some of my teen pics:
Eighth grade, 1989, what we here in Georgia referred to as the “Kennesaw Claw”:
http://i70.photobucket.com/albums/i109/apparitia_2006/2-2.jpg
By spring of ninth grade, it had mutated into this monstrosity:
http://i70.photobucket.com/albums/i109/apparitia_2006/1384049226_m.jpg
{{shudder}} Going thorugh a can of hairspray a week ruined my hair. (sigh)….
Deborah
I’ve commented every now and again, but mostly I lurk in the shadows. So I’ll bite the bullet and post some of my teen pics:
Eighth grade, 1989, what we here in Georgia referred to as the “Kennesaw Claw”:
http://i70.photobucket.com/albums/i109/apparitia_2006/2-2.jpg
By spring of ninth grade, it had mutated into this monstrosity:
…sorry for the double-post!
De-lurking from Maryland, soon to be in London though! I love reading about Brit things from your point of view and totally loved when you talked about all the swear words! Seriously, you crack me up, I even subject my boyfriend to random readings of your posts. I think his favorite was the drive by jizzing!
So thanks!
De lurking from the wilds of Idaho! I ready you everyday but comment very seldom.
I am with you about the leggings……I used to wear ones with lace on the bottom with a jean mini skirt in college. Thank goddess there is no photographic evidence!
Love your writings!
De-lurking to tell you that I’m LOLing more at the “Lillets Super Ultra Plus Deluxe Mega Uber Bichon Frise” than at the pics.
Dang. That came out wrong. Your commentary about the pics was very funny, but… I’ve got my own very similar pictures and looking at yours brought back vivid memories of being very uncomfortable in my own skin.
Seeing as I just found you’d replied on twitter telling me to de-lurk here also, here I am! De-lurking all the way from Australia, where my wife (Beth, somewhere further up the comments) and I both follow avidly!
Oh, and I’ll get around to the teenage picture sometime today. After the wedding we’re off to. I’ll linkback for you :)
Because I like you…
http://stacie-heeeeerestorkeystorkey.blogspot.com/2008/10/show-and-tell-challenge.html
De-lurking from California to say I love your writing and your honesty. Can’t remember how I found you but I went your archives and started from the beginning and was HOOKED! What a story — wish you’d put it in a book!
Delurking from Ohio. I comment occasionally but mostly lurk.
Your sense of humor is wonderful and your sweet little babes are divine!
right on with the leggings under jean shorts! I was there too. Unfortunately, the photographic evidence is a couple hundred miles away in my mom’s house.
I always thought that looked hot. Boy I was dumb.
I posted some truly awkward pictures to my blog. View at your own risk and potential loss of vision. Truly, they make you look super cool.
I can’t pass up a holiday as important as National Delurking Day so here I am.
I can however manage to pass up Reveal Your Horrid Teenage Years. Although, I must admit I find the concept both entertaining and intriguing.
You have a great blog going on here.
Hi! I’m de-lurking from Illinois. I read you every day and I hope you never stop blogging!
You’re so friggin’ hilarious……..love, love, love the photos and the commentary! I wish I could find pictures of me from that era….what fun!
Megan in Minnesota (been reading your blog for a couple of years and can’t remember how I “found” you!-keep writing, please!)
Just de-lurking, as I do every year. Love your blog. I have read it for years, but don’t really feel worthy of leaving a comment. You talk of writing a book? I hope you do! I will be the first in line to buy that one.
Have a very happy New Year!
grace
P.S. The babies are amazing and your pictures…priceless!
If I knew how, I’d post some pictures, but my teenage years ended less than a decade ago, so I was spared most the 80′s and early 90′s fashion bombs. Happy De-Lurking Day!
Delurking in North Carolina!
Delurking here in Pennsylvania. I don’t have a scanner, so I can’t share the horror of my high school senior portrait. My hair — teased and sprayed to the hilt — filled nearly the entire frame. What can I say? It was the 80s, baby!
Here I am delurking.
delurking a tad late, and wondering hmm have you ditched the mooncup?
De-lurking in Shropshire. Keep meaning to post old pics on flickr, but luckily I never get around to it! Think the shorts over leggings fashion is rearing its ugly head again, or just maybe it never went away…..
Delurking from Tennessee. You are so freaking hilarious! My favorite was the “woodwind instrument” comment. I was a flute player too!
It’s not leggings under shorts now but really thick tights, if you cropped seven inches off the legs of those shorts no-one would look at you twice. I look at that last photo and see “shoulders back, chest out”.
I’d forgotten all about macrame, do you think it is due a comeback?
In the last pic, you look like Sloane from Ferris Bueller’s Day off. :-P
De-Lurking in Illinois. Love your Blog
Delurking from Bronx, New York
I have sooo many conceals pictures of myself being the fashion victim of the season.
What I been doing as of lately is actually stealing lil by lil all those pic’s from family and close friends.
I keep all of them seal in a box deep inside my closet.
De-lurking from Ontario, Canada and a long time reader. One of the first pictures that I remember you posting was of a grocery aisle full of Captain Crunch cereal!
Delurking from Texas. I comment occasionally but read your blog every day!
I have commented a few times, but not in awhile. de-lurking from Melbourne Australia!
love the pics!!!
All I can say is ‘adorable’ Omg, the glasses and braces!
comment occasionally, lurk sporadically, big fan Always.
jr blog started at, “John M. yahoo360″
Officially delurking and saying hello from Ohio.
delurking from the Outer Banks of North Carolina. I’m Cissy, and don’t exactly remember how I cam across your site……… but I thoroughly enjoy reading it and your babies are adorable. Reading what you say about them and your life on a daily basis reminds me of the days when my daughter was that age. She’s 21 now.
De-lurking from Sydney, Australia.
I originally found your other blog, then moved over here once the babies were born.
Love you blog!
Here I am finally de-lurking… from Sydney, Australia.
I found your blog from another one, and now I start everyday but checking in here.
Keep writing! Love your blog!
Sam :o)
I have “de-lurked” before – but greetings from Hong Kong. You are the first thing I read each morning when logging on.
All the very best for 2009 (or The Year of the Ox – as it is here in China).
Best regards,
L
hey there – tried earlier but got caught is a spam filter or some such. would you believe I too have the photo by the crabapple, complete with unfortunate glasses, braces, lovely white blouse and puffy skirt? There is another fabulous photo of me complete with the headgear! I’ll look for them and put them on flickr if I find. thanks for sharing!!
De-lurking from Melbourne, Australia – love your blog!
I don’t count as a de-lurker as this is my first time. Be gentle with me.
My awkward teenage years consist mainly of spiked dog collars, chipped black nailpolish, and boots way too big for my feet.
I don’t count as a de-lurker as this is my first time. Be gentle with me.
My awkward teenage years consist mainly of spiked dog collars, chipped black nailpolish, and boots way too big for my feet.
I don’t count as a de-lurker as this is my first time. Be gentle with me.
My awkward teenage years consist mainly of spiked dog collars, chipped black nailpolish, and boots way too big for my feet.
De-lurking to say that I would like you to blow up that photo of you in the unicorn shirt and wear it as a mask when we go to our gathering in a couple weeks’ time. If I had any access to old photos of me, I would then do the same with one of me when I had the same perm, braces, and the most unhip tortoise shell glasses you could imagine. What you wouldn’t be able to see in a headshot like the one described above is the turquoise pants cinched at the ankles and the white leather LA Gear sneakers. Good god was I the definition of cool.
Not a lurker but a friend! Hilarious pics!
Awwright, gotta do it too now, don’t I? ;) I suppose I’ll have to scan I have here to flickr (though the real horrorshow is locked safely away in my mom’s scrapbooks (you know, the kind with black paper, corner tabs, and none of the fru-fru that was all the rage a while back). Thanks for sharing – though you were a cute kid, you really blossomed!
De-lurking…