Well, hello, ladies! Am I late to the party? I can almost always blame my husband for our tardiness, but this time I blame Dane, who has a crazy two-week long viral rash thing happening. Thank you, snugglebuggy. Deeply.
What am I talking about, you ask? (Or, privately amongst each other: Has she finally lost it? Gone the way of the fruit loop? Marbled out?) No, no, you doubting doubters. I’m just linking up with I Was a Senior Hottie at the eleventh hour, because it took me an entire week to dig out my old photo albums and come up up with some pics from 1995 (UGH. REALLY?), and then it took me even longer to come up with pics from the last six months. For real. I have, like, two. So go check out a belle, a bean & a chicago dog, read all those brave ladies who posted their high school pics along with their faces right now, and judge all you want. Because in a world where high fashion means pleated cream pants tapering to the ankle and matching cream clogs, I am Serena Freaking van der Woodson.
(That’s right, I said it. I WATCH GOSSIP GIRL EVEN THOUGH I GRADUATED HIGH SCHOOL IN 1995. Don’t judge.)
What am I, the Washington Monument? Yeesh.
p.s. I’m pretty sure this whole outfit is from Express, back when Express sold stuff that wasn’t made out of snakeskin-print lycra and actually covered your butt.
p.p.s. Tapered, pleated pants. Really.
Aw, prom. How cute was my date? (Look away, honey, look away.) In case you’re not from Texas, he’s wearing a Texas tux: all business on the top, party on the bottom. I wore this poofy dress about three years before they were in style. Un-ironically. And even though I was the only one at prom not wearing a sequined mermaid dress, I loved it (which makes me sound way cooler and more forward-thinking than I actually was, trust me).
You can’t see it, but that’s a Spuds Mackenzie t-shirt I have tucked into those high-waisted, ripped jean shorts (shorts that, by-the-by, used to belong to Aunt Brookie, standing to the right). I wore that tee/short combo for at least three years of high school and pretty much all of college. Because they were COOL, y’all.
Also, John Lennon called, and he’s never wearing his glasses again because, well, I ruined them. (Yes, from the grave. WHAT.)
Also, also, Aunt Brookie, did you really think I wouldn’t drag you into this? That’s what you get for being my fashion icon.
Our Christmas pic from last year. I promise, I’ve had all kinds of haircuts since high school; it’s total coincidence that I’ve ended up with 1995 hair again, all these years later. At least now I have a Chi and an assortment of bedazzled hats. Speaking of which:
With the yummy puppy on his first birthday, in a glorified trucker hat and costumed as a dog groomer as imagined by Britney Spears. Y’all. Did I mention the yummy puppy? DEE. LISH.
Hold the phone, y’all, here’s one that more accurately captures what I look like on a regular day: hair all amess, hiding behind sunglasses because I may or may not be wearing makeup, hiding behind child because, let’s face it, he’s way cuter than me.
Oh, and HELL YES I instagrammed the heck out of that picture. We all look better with a little Lo-Fi, don’t you agree?
Did I mention 1995? UGH.
That is all.