Picture Day - A Progression

Remember back in elementary school when picture day came around how exciting it was? My mom almost always dressed me in fluffy dresses and lace-edged ankle socks with my black patent leather shoes and sent me off feeling hopeful that I would get a good photo. When I got to school, I was invariably the only one dressed "fancy" while everybody else was in nice-but-normal jeans and t-shirts or sweaters and I spent the day feeling both special and embarassed at the same time. 

A few weeks back we had photo day at work - a photographer came in and set up his flashes, backdrop and reflectors and I was assigned a time-slot. Like most portraits, I'm not crazy about the result.

BUT, since I'm completely self-absorbed and deluded enough to think that some of you might take pleasure (or at least amusement or distraction) from the good, the bad, and the ugly of my growing-up years, here is a progression of photo-day portraits that I scanned way back last autumn at my parent's house. And just as a warning, I had some really terrible hair days growing up. Don't believe me? Scroll down.

Pre-school.  Is it just me, or am I smiling with my eyes a-la Tyra Banks?  My four-year-old self was fierce.

Kindergarten

First grade.  Ugh - this must have been taken after recess because I look like a mess.

Sometime between first and second grade I got my first perm.  Mother, I love you, but why oh why did you do this to me? 

I actually like the curls here though.

Here's where things start getting bad though - fourth grade. Woof.

I'm missing fifth grade. It was a red dress with gigantic puffy sleeves and black polka-dots all over it. Not good. Not good at all.

Sixth grade - the year I got contacts.

Since I skipped eighth grade, I only have a photo for seventh. I loved this sweater. It's not visible in the picture, but I wore it with a red pleated skirt.

Ninth grade. What is going on with my bangs? I HATED wearing my hair like this, but I couldn't figure out how to do it some better way.

 Just for kicks and giggles, here is my ninth grade photo from Pageantry (aka Dance Team/Colorguard). Wolf-whistles and cat-calls are permissible.  No need to restrain yourself.

I moved back to Nebraska between ninth and tenth grades. You can see I was trying to figure out something better to do with the bangs that I despised.

Remember when the triangle hairstyle was totally in? No? That's because it never was. Ever. I sported this triangle head look for an entire year, hating it the whole time. I hadn't had a perm in more than five years, so the curl (which was the bane of my existence) is all natural. It's toned down a lot in the intervening years after being repeatedly straightened into submission.

Senior portrait. I finally managed a normal looking style for my bangs although my hair was still pretty big.  When I try to think of an image of myself, for some reason, this is the look that usually comes up in my mind's eye.

And finally, present day. It may not be the most flattering photo I've ever taken, but at least my hair looks sleek and smooth, just how I always dreamed it could look while I was growing up.  Do I look like a lawyer?  I think so.

Oh, and I just counted and turns out I wore some form of turtleneck in seven of these photos.  I obsessed over turtlenecks as a child.