Oh goodness. I do love me some Flashback Friday, an event both reminiscent and joyful because I get to wax nostalgic, and, well, it's Friday. Double doses of smiles all around.What we have here is a Polaroid taken in the corner of the junior high gym during 8th grade. I'm going to go with the idea that it's a Christmas dance, given Monica's awesome red pants and Christmas tree sweatshirt. Also supporting this theory is that I KNOW what I am wearing here and I remember loving this outfit thoroughly: a green crushed velvet dress with an off-white lace bodysuit underneath. Did you catch that? BODYSUIT. Hellsyeah.
Eighth grade was such a pivotal, awkward year. I remember feeling a tad odd about this photo because I was only good friends with about half of the participants, and a couple of them I hardly knew. This was the year when people started doing crazy things; cutting (not school), drinking, dabbling in the drogas. I remember sitting in gym class and listening to a girl talk about losing her virginity, astounded and shocked. Shocked not because I thought it was wrong, but because having sex was pretty much the LAST thing on my mind. I was trying to cope with things like not really needing a bra but kinda wanting one because of the locker room situation. It was like getting shell-shocked out of playing with Nerfuls.
Change is change. The year after we left Harvest Park to enter the realms of high school, they built a new gym; an amazing structural phenomena with two basketball courts and shiny light fixtures. Class of 97 always seemed to be a year off on the new stuff. Alas, I bet they even had professional photographers the year after for school dances instead of 8th graders taking other 8th graders Polaroid pictures for $1 as a fundraiser. Whatever. I probably would have thrown the professional one away. This, I cherish.
Eighth grade was such a pivotal, awkward year. I remember feeling a tad odd about this photo because I was only good friends with about half of the participants, and a couple of them I hardly knew. This was the year when people started doing crazy things; cutting (not school), drinking, dabbling in the drogas. I remember sitting in gym class and listening to a girl talk about losing her virginity, astounded and shocked. Shocked not because I thought it was wrong, but because having sex was pretty much the LAST thing on my mind. I was trying to cope with things like not really needing a bra but kinda wanting one because of the locker room situation. It was like getting shell-shocked out of playing with Nerfuls.
Change is change. The year after we left Harvest Park to enter the realms of high school, they built a new gym; an amazing structural phenomena with two basketball courts and shiny light fixtures. Class of 97 always seemed to be a year off on the new stuff. Alas, I bet they even had professional photographers the year after for school dances instead of 8th graders taking other 8th graders Polaroid pictures for $1 as a fundraiser. Whatever. I probably would have thrown the professional one away. This, I cherish.
2 comments:
oooh goodness ! what a fabulous outfit you have on there. god youre cute ! i love theese flasshback fridays of yours .makes me want to dig up my old photos. i dont even know where they are!! eek!
um that's me in the plaid dress making a funny face.
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