Prom-a-Palooza and other partial humiliations

The Stiletto Mom threw down the gauntlet
last week, daring others to boldly go where she had in posting
devastatingly horrible pictures of herself in high school. (Actually,
she looked pretty cute to me.) You have to check out her blog to see the pink taffeta ruffled jobby she wore to prom because her shoulders were too sexy to show (or so her mother thought).

ANYway, last night, I dug out my high school album and scanned
samples of my lovely wardrobe from 1983-1987, the good old days of
Rangeview High.

<partial humiliation>

Now first of all, You have to remember it was the ’80s, with big
hair, the bigger and more frosted the better. Even that, I have to say
I was HAWT in high school. Hawt and skinny and blonde. God knows why I
hardly ever had a date. Maybe I was just so devastatingly HAWT none of
the boys had the balls to ask me out. But I digress.

The fashion show begins in 1983 with my freshman photo.

1983-1

Note the bi-level haircut and my natural color. And the Izod. Oh,
lord I was so happy to have that Izod, because it meant I was not only
HAWT, I was COOL. What you can’t see is that I have absolutely no tits
whatsoever. Jody Tabb would sit behind me in class and whisper “Flat as
a board! Flat as a board!” Maybe he was trying to get me to flash him
my itty bitty titties. Guess, what Jody, joke’s on you because now, I’m
a 36 D and you can’t see ‘em nah, nah nah nah nah.

I think he’s in prison somewhere.

Let’s fast forward to 1984.

1984-1985 was sophomore year, my second year of four on the pom squad. It’s
odd that I don’t have tons of photos of me in my uniform, because
that’s pretty much what I wore 3 to 4 days a week from the first day of
school until mid-spring when basketball season was over. I still have
my skirt, which I think Lauren could wear now. Did I mention I was
skinny?

1984-1

I think the rest of my photos are still on the rolls of film
somewhere at my parents’ house. My mom’s notorious for never developing
them, and the move before last, I took in a bunch of rolls for
processing. Most didn’t turn out, but the one that did was nekkid
pictures of my little brother’s girlfriend showing off her pink bits. I
don’t think my mom took those. ANYway, the few pictures that did get
printed were the ones Ganny, my dad’s mom, took. First up: me in my
Baskin-Robbins uniform.

1985-3

It’s so lovely and brown. Note the lack of bilevel, and the
increasing blondness of my hair. Note the expression. I was never meant
to be a model–still can’t relax in front of the camera. Also, note the
ass-end of the Ford Gran Torino stationwagon, complete with air jacks.
This was my first car.

Sidenote to parents of girls: Do not give your daughter a car with a backseat she can stretch out along.

Then we have Ganny’s lovely pictures of me  in my BATHING SUIT next
to Gus Hendricks, now my FBF (Facebook friends to you novices).

1985-4

Gus was a hottie I had a crush on, and his dad got transferred to
Louisiana, a town right next to my grandparents’. So, he came to visit.
Now: check out my legs. Seriously. And when I bought that swimsuit (see
the alternating purple and black Vees meant to slim my 24-inch waist?)
I thought it made my thighs look fat.

Finally, yet another awkward moment in front of the camera. I was
going out on a date Ganny, the eternal matchmaker, set me up on the day
Gus left. With a guy who was (still to this day) the WORST kisser on
the planet. I only kissed him because I felt obligated. Mushy. Yuck.
But I looked cute, huh? I think the white plastic beads from the
Limited really make the whole thing work.

1985-1

My junior year, 1985-1986, The Limited was my favorite store. I
actually saved up for this mustard yellow sweater vest (note upturned
collar–sweet!). I grew my hair out by Christmas, and PERMED it. Oh
yeah! Eating chocolate fondue on the lovely floral couch with me, my
BFF and now FBF, Vivian Plummer. She was stylin’ too. Check out the
brooch at her neck. Sexy.

1986-3

My junior year kind of sucked. I went from unrequited crush to
unrequited crush. But the worst of it was at Junior Prom. I was so into
Scott Osgood. He asked me to Prom. I convinced my mother to buy a $200
pink and white lace dress with a HOOP SKIRT and FINGERLESS GLOVES.
Then, Scott went to an FBLA conference and met Margaret. And the week
before prom, told me he was taking Margaret and not me. I was crushed.
And pissed. So my HS BFF Kristin and I tp’d his car at school with a
24-roll pack of generic toilet paper, purchased at Grocery Warehouse
for $1.99. Sweet, sweet revenge. But still, I had a $200 dress, a hair
appointment and no date.

Enter, Russ, the school security guard, who told me some guy I
didn’t know really liked me and wanted to take me to prom. Eureka! I
use this dude as my entry ticket, blow him off and look devastatingly
beautiful to make Scott eat his heart out. So I said yes. And Lloyd,
who I had never really seen before, showed up wearing this lovely white
tails tux with gloves. I made him take off the TOP HAT and put down his
cane for the photo. OMFG. Seriously. I almost didn’t get in the car.

The night was awful, except for dinner at Baby Doe’s. After I did my
“can’t touch this” walk by Scott and Margaret, I wanted to go home.
Suffice it to say, 8 hours and a six-pack of Keystone Light later, I
stumbled into my room and swore to wipe the evening from my memory.

Alas, several photos survived.

1985-2

Now, I want you to take notice of the background, especially the
tree. Somehow the tree was sexy. It , like me, was HAWT. Being
photographed near The Tree meant it was a special occasion. Evidence:

junior-homecoming-2

Forget the fact that I’m completely in shadow. The Tree is in the picture. It works.

Which brings me to Senior Homecoming, with David Bates. He’s the
only guy who legitimately asked me to a dance in high school. Sad. He
was nice, and guess what? He’s my FBF! In this picture, he is stabbing
his finger with the corsage pin. I lost it in the parking lot of Stuart
Anderson’s Steakhouse. I felt so bad. That was actually a very fun date. Check
out my poofy bangs, french braid and lovely black bow barette. All my
own creation!

senior-homecoming-1

I still have this dress. It’s velvet, a size 4 that’s been altered
to fit my skinny waist, which is emphasized by a big-ass bow. I
remember that the dress came back from the cleaners having been IRONED.
Fuck! It was ruined until Kristin’s mom came to the rescue with a
steamer. I think that if I took out the shoulder pads and removed the
bow, it would look great on me today … once I got back down to 118
pounds. HA!

1986-2

And wait, are those backseamed hose?

I’m sure other pictures exist of me in 1986-1987, senior year. But these are the
best! First, check out the outfit here. To set the scene, my family is
on vacation in New Orleans. I am blonde and permed. And bored out of my
fucking mind. My brother looks disappointed because my dad just pulled
him out of a titty bar. And I’m wearing my most favorite outfit of my
senior year: the blue sleeveless turtleneck sweater with a pink tank
underneath, pink shorts, white keds and pink flamingo earrings that I stole bought with my employee discount at Stein-Mart. My anklet socks? Ringed with flamingos too. Totally tubular!

1986-1

And then, came Senior Prom. By this time I was well into my longest
high school relationship, with Rob Johnson. He was funnier than he was
cute, and he turned out to be a cheating piece of crap. But he was 17,
so what could I expect? Anyhoo, after the pink wedding cake dress of
1986, I decided to go sexy black for this prom.

senior-prom-2

Rob went to Smoky Hill, and both of our proms were on the same
night. We wound up going to his–can’t remember why. I think because I
was in a “fuck RHS” mode. We went to this private dining room for
dinner, called the Metropolitan Club, and the waiters served the food
under cover, removing the covers with a fluorish. I ate escargot for
the first time. The dance was boring, so we went to the hotel room he’d
booked. To spare the older generation, I’ll let the story stop there.

senior-prom-1

I remember buying this dress. I was devastated that it was a size 8.
I still had no boobs, but my mom famously said, “Don’t worry, you can
buy those.” Check out the ruffles and the bow, man, and my big, big,
big hair. I think I used a whole can of Aqua Net to get it to stay like
that.

</partial humiliation>

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