Picture Pages

My mom recently scanned in some old photos while performing her duties as family archivist, so naturally I feel that I must share some of them with all of you lovely people.  At least the ones of me, since presumably you have no interest in knowing what my great-aunt looked like in the 1920s.  Or perhaps you do, but let's take a moment now to remember whose Website this is, mkay?  Fortunately, most of them are from either before or after my prolonged awkward stage (which is well-documented here, here, and here; whether there truly is an "after" to it, you be the judge -- me, I tend to think it will never end), although the first does relate to my all-consuming love of Annie. 

Witness this, the most enthusiastic gift reaction ever captured on film:

My face looks like it's going to collapse in on itself, such is the power of my ecstatic inhalation.  Once I recovered the ability to make sound, I believe my exact words were, "ANNIE DRESS.  I HAVE AN ANNIE DRESS."  This was my birthday, August 1982.  And my mom made that dress with her own two hands.  (These sewing/crafting talents, they were not passed on to me, as I believe I've mentioned.) 

A normal seven-year old would have worn the dress to play in, maybe, and then carefully put it away until, oh I don't know, Halloween?  Or such other occasion (Purim party (we're not Jewish, but hey, whatever), Annie convention), of which there are admittedly few in life, when wearing an Annie dress might be appropriate. 

Me?  I wore it on the first day of school.  I'll just tell you straightaway, a great way to start off the school year?  Is NOT to show up dressed as your favorite cartoon/musical/film character.  Let this be a lesson to you all.

Next up:  August 7, 1975; a hospital in downstate Illinois: 

You have to admit, that is a cute baby right there.  My dad is looking very handsome and exceedingly tan (we're usually so pasty in my family; I have no idea what was going on in 1975 for him to be Mr. Swarthypants, but it's possible that this was simply before any of us knew not to leave the house without SPF 45 covering every millimeter of exposed flesh), and he is rockin' some sweet sideburns.  I have no idea how they got that bow in my hair, unless there is a safety pin in my head.  I had that same amount of hair until I was about five, and to this day I have that same fo' (that's forehead for you all who are not down wit it, yo) going on that you see here.

(But come on, what a cute baby, right?  RIGHT?)

Here I am, all gussied up for my stint as flower-girl in my aunt's wedding.  She got married in this church with an aisle the length of the Queen Mary 2.  I thought I would be scattering yellow rose petals for the rest of my life.

Dad makes another appearance here, in the form of a disembodied hand.  He used to hold his hand out like that and I would clap both of my hands against it (how many times can I use "hand" in one sentence?).  I don't know where we came up with that routine, but we do it to this day.  And when someone goes to shake my hand, I have to restrain myself from clapping it repeatedly between my own.  Because, at my core, I'm still six.  (I think I'll be six now for ever and ever.)

As evidence of my Little House obsession (which is recorded on this site too many times to link), here I am on Christmas Eve -- circa 1983 -- carrying presents down to the tree in my Red Flannel Factory nightgown:

Not pictured: the red flannel bonnet that went with the nightgown.  A BONNET.  If I tried to wear a full-on flannel ensemble such as this now, I would die of acute dehydration; they would find me in the morning having disappeared in a pool of my own sweat.  Just looking at this makes me feel warm and itchy.

Also, why does my brother look so fresh-faced and apple-cheeked, while I appear to have just wrestled a grizzly bear?  This was before bed, so I had no excuse for being so disheveled.      

Finally, here we have proof that I was a dancer.  And that, at one time, I had no ass whatsoever.

I clearly had no boobies, either, although in this shot it kind of looks like I have some growing out of my back.  At the time -- this was taken, I believe, when I was in tenth grade -- I thought this picture made me look chunky.

(Let's pause for a moment of silent head-shaking at the folly of a fifteen-year old who weighed as much as a pillowcase.) 

I do think my hands kind of look like catcher's mitts, though.  My arms and hands usually looked much more graceful than that, I swear.  And my knees could be straighter.  I could have arched a little more.  Oh, well.  It's hard to be critical now, when I would pay someone NOT to photograph me in a gauzy costume and tights. 

Although suddenly I am thinking about going as Annie for Halloween this year...

Comments

[maggie]

I think you look lovely in that dancer picture. And more knee straightening and you'd get that ugly hyper extended business where the knees almost look like they're bending the wrong way. And your feet are beautiful.

[Suebob]

The Annie dress first-day fiasco is SO something I would have done. In fourth grade I had a skirt I loved so much that I wore it EVERY OTHER DAY with the logic that, as long as I wore something different in between, no one would notice that I was wearing the blue and green plaid skirt THREE DAYS A WEEK.

Thanks for the laugh.

[jonniker]

I love you, which is a fact that is well established, but dude, the love grew a thousand times more at the sight of that Annie picture. THE FACE! The little FACE!

[sognatrice]

Um, I'm quite certain that I had that same flannel red nightgown and bonnet number...and I'm sure there's photographic evidence somewhere, b/c it was probably a Christmas morning outfit. Must ask mom....

[leelee]

well, the birthyear - 1975 - pretty much sums up the reason why all your pictures are eerily familiar with all of my own.

although i can one-up you on the annie dress - my mom let me get a perm - and i had the horrible tight perm when i wore the annie dress - to school, church, the grocery store, you name it.

um, yeah...

[Nancy]

Not even kidding, my two sisters and I had the exact same red flannel nightgowns WITH matching bonnet. And our names stitched onto them. We have all these photos of the three of us looking proud as punch of ourselves on Christmas day. God.

[-R-]

That dance picture looks like a painting, not a photograph. Gorgeous.

Regarding the baby bow, I once asked my mom how she got bows to stay on my head when I was a baby. The answer was CORN SYRUP. Awesome.

[Jamie]

Wow, does that nightgown ever bring back memories!

[stacy kathryn]

I love that dance picture of you. It makes me want to paint ballet dancers!

[jes]

Crap. Crap. Crappity Crap Crap Crap asjdflkdajgnbgkkshit983*&(&#akldggnasldf.

I can't see the images again. EMPLOYER. SUCKS. ASS.

(Unless you're my employer. In that case, I heart my paychecks! Please don't stop them until I say so!)

[Mauigirl52]

Love the pictures. I have a lot of similar ones especially from opening presents on Xmas morning. And I agree, the dance picture is beautiful.

I loved reading your back post that you linked to, about why you and Allison were nerds. I can so identify! By the way, I took ballet too - in 2nd grade. We also did some other types of dancing. In our recital we were supposed to all be doing some kind of "shimmy" from the 20's and our group wasn't on stage until 9:30 which was way past my bedtime. I was half asleep and was the only one shimmying in one direction while everyone else went in the other. The whole audience was hysterical with laughter.

I didn't take dance lessons again after that.

[metalia]

I mentioned this to you already on Flickr, but your face in the Annie dress picture is PRICELESS.

[Jen W.]

The ballet photo is beautiful. I'm in awe of anyone that talented and flexible!