Short shorts and tinted glasses

Ahhh, the family vacation. Time spent with one another, enjoying the sights and scenes of U.S. history. Mt. Rushmore, the Empire State Building, Historic Williamsburg, Virginia.

Or perhaps, Pearl Harbor.

Here I am, enjoying Pearl Harbor, in 1982.

There is much to say about this photo. I will not touch upon it all, so feel free to embellish on your own. (There are some places I just cannot go!!)

Let me express a few feelings about this trip. First of all, Hawaii! Awesome! Even in 1982.

What is my real "My Parents Made Me Wear This" issue here? You'd think it was the shorts, which had a matching tank top. It might be the shirt, which matched my father's. And yes, he could have planned our outfits to match since we shared a VERY SMALL cabin on this particular cruise, just when I was getting to that awkward, hate-to-share-a-room-with-my-dad stage. It could have been my dad's shorts--what is going on there?? (My husband swears there are socks involved somehow.) And is my father wearing an undershirt?

I am not, am not, talking about the hair on my dad or my grandmother. Feel free to discuss---here..........

My real issue here is my damn glasses. You probably can't even see where I am in this photo because my darn glasses are so big, and tinted so dark. What were my parents thinking? Who thought this was an appropriate look for an 11-year-old girl? If I had been in some kind of period film made by Woody Allen, perhaps. (I did grow up in New York, after all.) Otherwise, it's just ugly. No wonder I had people who said "such a pretty face..." when I took my glasses off.

Let's not even talk about the fact that the glasses were made for someone whose face was about 10 sizes larger than mine. Do you seeeeeee how small my face is? Yup, it's still small. And now, my glasses are in PROPORTION.

Here's how much I hated them--shortly after this, I spent much time hiding the fact that I wore glasses. When I entered junior high, I took them off for the hallway walk between classes, slipping them on only when I had to do actual work. (Okay, I did this until I graduated from high school and finally managed to get what I considered "cool" glasses.) I resisted them until it was considered cool to have some indy, live in the Northwest (because I did), hipster frames that were scavenged from a junk shop somewhere or that you'd taken from your grandmother's old stash and retro-fitted. Needless to say, it took some time for the tinted nightmare to wear off.

Briefly, the other folks in that photo. My grandma and grandpa. The reason we were even in Hawaii? Well, all credit on that account goes to my grandpa who was attending a pigeon convention for the homing pigeons he raised. I had many childhood hour spent in the coop, and one whole punk rock phase where I made bracelets out of pigeon leg bands.

Worst part of the trip? Two sun-induced Cold Sores on my lip, on ship picture day of the cruise we were on. Immortalized in a life-jacket and lip decay.

Best part? Getting to go to a luau at the house where Magnum P.I. was filmed. Thinking Tom Selleck would take me away from all of this--that is, before I knew that we were, um, not in the same place politically.

If you're spending this particular vacation with your family, pigeons or not, Happy New Year everyone!

More Plaid, Plaid, Plaid

This poor boy says the following:

"How on earth did I ever turn out to be anything other than a used car salesman? I want an apology from my parents for ever letting that jacket even exist." (via)

My question then is, what is this guy smiling about?

Because plaid looks good on everyone

Today, I am thinking plaid, liking school uniforms--and hoping to inspire some of you to send in your own hated school apparel.

Here's why I think this qualifies for My Parents Made Me Wear This: In my house, my son is resigned to the idea of school, and feels that the only reason he must go is because we force him. A uniform would merely be the icing on the forcing him cake.

The first photo for today is a bit confusing. Was it communion day? Why were these girls wearing veils in addition to their uniforms? And why did the girl in the middle not have one?

Here is what one of these women has to say about this lovely ensemble:

"The fashion dictated by my Catholic grade school...Green and gold plaid jumper no higher than an inch above the knee, preferably below. A choice from a wide selection of either white or green socks. Shoes judged to be sensible by a panel of nuns. Failure to comply resulted in death." (via)

She doesn't mention the veil, but I'm sure it was considered a critical part of the equation.

As a woman with olive skin, I find the next photo even more appalling. Who thinks that YELLOW is a good choice for these poor girls??

"...It often takes quite a while till we can bring ourselves to wear anything the colour of our old school uniform. The colours of mine were maroon and yellow.

Here you can see Class 2X, with form teacher, Miss Cooper (alias Kiss Mooper) in the summer of 1970. The uniform was in the transitionary stages from belted, gathered, solid yellow dress to shapeless sacks with a patter of fine white grid lines on yellow. I can also see the two allowed styles of regulation indoor shoes, for of course, no young lady would dare to wear her outdoors, indoors...I am horrified to note that sevearl members of the form appear to be flouting the 'no more than 3 inches above the knee' rule. Kiss Mooper's hemline seems dangerously high as well. It is no wonder that by 1972, one or two of the staff began to wear trouser suits." (via)

Trouser suits sound lovely too, don't they? Were they worn with shirts that had large bows at the collar?

There are also a few girls in the front row who do not have their legs crossed at the ankle. Sluts!

Pleated skirts, knee socks, a velveteen suit and a broken leg

It's good to know that a sibling's love can help one overcome the trauma of a bad outfit. Thank goodness this woman had a brother.

"There are no words to describe how much I hated the outdated hand me downs I was forced to wear. Pleated skirts were my nemesis, it was fruitless to argue with my feisty mother. My knee socks bought on dollar forty nine day either slipped to my ankles, or were splashed with mud on the five mile trek to school, causing my constant childhood distress. The only thing that brought me happiness during those years of being teased was that little guy standing right next to me!" (via)

And at least they could share in the pain-which is not actually a joke about her brother's leg. 

"Everyone thought I was sixteen, but I was only eleven. Another ugly outfit outdated by seven years, rolled up at the waist, an attempt to fit in. Desperately trying to mirror the current style, a calico cotton mini skirt, worn by most of the other girls. My school photo from that year I looked like the teacher." (via)

I am puzzled by her brother's outfit as it seem to be a velveteen suit, with a zipper. Personally, I think that breaks the formal nature of the velveteen, which certainly calls for some kind of shiny buttons. Then again, anything goes with a leg cast. 

This next lucky winner has fallen victim to the inevitable matching-sibling outfits. I am completely intrigued by their purses, and also curious about the funky gloves, which look like something I might wear to ride my bike. 

"When I was seven years old I remember standing in a dressing room in a Broadway department store with my mother and sister. Mom wanted to buy us new dresses for Easter. Becky and I were posed in front of the mirror, silently gazing at ourselves in identical outfits. We might as well have been staring into one of those crazy, distorted amusement park mirrors. We were so different in so many ways that just seeing ourselves dressed like twins looked bizarre.

I could tell that Mom really wanted to buy those dresses. She was pleased with everything---the matching two-tone gloves, the little white drawstring purses, and more importantly the price. But she kept standing over me with the Ameritone color samples fanned-out above my shoulder and shaking her head. 'I just don't like this navy blue on you,' she said. 'It's too dark for your olive skin...

I remember being a little hopeful about the prospect of getting a new dress, but any excitement was dulled by the fact that my sister was getting the exact same outfit too. After all, I wore her hand-me-downs. I would be wearing this dress for a long, long time, no matter how fast I grew.

Finally, Mom came to a reluctant compromise. 'The trim on this dress is a true winter white,' she declared, 'And because the collar is white and it is near your face, I think it will be okay for you to wear it." (via)

"I did wear that navy blue dress for a long time. Not just for Easter, but for birthday parties and even at the LA County Fair. And after I grew out of it, I inherited the same navy blue dress from my sister, which I wore to school for many more months. 

But I don't think there was one time that I put that dress on that I didn't think about my skin color. I never wore that dress without worrying that maybe not everyone else would notice that the color white was near my face. On those days I secretly hoped that my complexion didn't look quite as olive and that my dress didn't look quite as navy blue as I knew they really were."(via)

Merry Christmas Monkeys from My Parents Made Me Wear This

Tonight's post is a special one, and goes to show that the things your parents made you wear do not necessarily end in childhood.

Full disclosure--In less than two years, I will be 40. I am a grown woman, with a job, a husband, a child, a house, hobbies, friends. I am a swimmer and a runner. I like to do crafty projects. Occasionally, I have one more glass of wine than I should. I watch Hoarders and am obsessed with somewhat gruesome medical documentaries like Tree Man of Borneo. I have had my driver's license for almost 23 years.

In short, I am almost a grown-up. And yet, there are still the things my mother makes me wear. Here is my Christmas Eve outfit.


As you will notice, I have opted for several means of protecting my identity--namely, the Santa Hat and my son's sunglasses. Still, nothing saves me from the embarrassment of these Sock Monkey Feetie Pajamas.

This lovely fleece item was purchased for me as a get-well present when I was recovering from oral surgery. It certainly wasn't enough that one side of my face was swollen beyond recognition, and that I was unable to chew, therefore forced to have a liquid diet while the stitches inside my mouth healed. The level of discomfort was extraordinary--so why not add incredible humiliation to the mix?

There are several remarkable things about these pajamas. First is that they are INCREDIBLY HOT. Second is that even though they are very large, they give me a total wedge. Third, they have pockets, because every woman likes to emphasize their hips and perhaps needs a container for wadded up tissues. Fourth--they have sock monkey feet!! (which do not exactly fit.) Fifth, I purchased and my son is wearing right now, a set of glow-in-the-dark space shuttle feetie pajamas. (My beloved son, I am sorry in advance.)

Would I decline to wear this item? No, I would not. The real lesson here is that no matter how old you get, there are still the things "my parents made me wear."

Happy Holidays to all, and see you after Christmas!

A Child Bride update, Leisure Suits and the Dykes of Tomorrow

A random sampling of fun today.

I was thrilled to get an update after yesterday's post about Jessica. Just in case you've forgotten her, here is Jessica, the child bride, modeling for Dress Ups!

What I didn't know yesterday was this:
"I totally forgot to tell you that they fired
me from the modeling gig because they said the look I was giving had gotten too seductive and it was starting to look like kiddie porn." I'm a little afraid that they could even begin to assess something like that!

This poor boy was forced to endure this outfit for a NINE HOUR FLIGHT.

"I was 14 years old and was visiting my friend in the Netherlands, who lived in Bilthoven, a small town not far from Utrecht. For reasons that still aren't quite clear (something about good impressions) my parents thought I should wear a three-piece suit for the nine hour flight to Amsterdam. I'm not sure what my friend's parents thought when they first saw me. Maybe they thought every teenager in Canada wears suits all the time." (via)

Oh, Canada. But on the other hand, let me just say how amazing this kid's parents were to let him travel to the Netherlands by himself.

This young one finds the divine, or the divine joke, in the 70s fashion foisted upon him by his parents.

"Now is as good a time as any to mention one of the funniest style jokes God ever played on the U.S. when He convinced people to think Leisure Suits were cool. Here is an extremely embarrassing picture of myself and my parents. Wow, my mom and I are in matching suits that she made. That’s awful." (via)

Finally,while trolling the interwebs, I came across something that I am simply in awe of, and a little jealous for the cache of amazing photos it already holds.

Let me preface by saying that here in Northampton, Massachusetts, we are proud to claim ownership of the title the National Equirer once gave us.

That's right--we live in LESBIANVILLE, USA.

Dykes of Tomorrow is a bit like a family photo journey through our hometown. Let's visit, shall we?

Here's Carly.

"I don't know what my mother was thinking dressing me in this 3 piece suit, but I really rocked it don't you think?!" (via)

And I think I may have gone to elementary school with Lizzy.

"I HATED pink. I despised it and refused to wear the color in addition to any manner of clothing I considered to be "girly." My mother, however, wanted to have our portrait taken and was distressed that I would look like a boy so the only way she would allow me to wear my sneakers and jeans was if I would wear this pink sweater monogrammed so elegantly with my initials.
I started a club called the Tomboy Club, and there were very strict rules against wearing pink or being a "girly girl." Applicants to the club had to do things like crawl through the mud, hang upside down and run really fast." (via)

The Tomboy Club sounds much cooler than the club I started. The Garfield Club, however, did have membership cards for Tara, the one other member, and I. Club activities largely consisted of being able to copy images of Garfield from the funnies each day. Needless to say, membership never really grew and the club disbanded after Tara and I could not agree whether or not to include Opie in our pictures.

Finally, here's Lisa.

"This was a school pic they made me wear a dress for and I wasn't happy about it. The photographer kept telling me to smile and I thought I WAS smiling! But I really hated getting dressed up for these things."
Really, Lisa? I never would have guessed that from the look on your face.

Thanks again to Dykes of Tomorrow for these great pics.

See you tomorrow! (And as always, send your submissions to myparentsmademewearthis at gmail dot com)

Flashdance, a supermodel, and a Child Bride

Today's offering is so rich, I am tempted to spread it over the course of two days. And I am almost at a loss for words. Instead, in the spirit of the holidays, I've decided you all deserve this little gift. A present from me to you. Most remarkable about today is that our little "Jessica" smiles through it all.

It's really the hat that is the problem here. And is that a farmscape or a clothesline pictured?

Apparently, Jessica didn't like the rain. But still looked adorable in her striped engineer pants and yellow slicker. It's later that things started to get bad...
Oh dear.
"Fourth grade. Dead Center in a striped shirt. Who thought that was a good idea?" Apparently, many parents since 8 out of 21 children, plus their teacher, were wearing stripes or plaid. Then there's the girl next to Jessica, who is either jealous, surprised, or smelled something yucko.
In kindergarten, Jessica's school tried something unorthodox. The relaxed, outdoor school photo. Some observations: First of all, this class had FOUR teachers. Wow! My favorite is the one in the front row, trying to look casual, sitting sitways on the dirt in her mom jeans.

Some statistics-eight children in jumpers or overalls, four little girls in collared dresses, and three pairs of red mary janes. And talk about diversity-this class has a black child AND ethnically Asian kid. Whoa!

Jessica looks pretty contented in her floral dress and green tights (bottom left), but the boy next to her looks quite concerned. But if anyone had something to be upset about, I think it's the girl in the brown shoes, red suspenders, and grey suit with a skirt so short, it can't be comfy to sit on that rock.

Some of Jessica's "favorites" come later in her youth.

"Flashdance had just come out and I cut the neck out of my sweatshirt." (Didn't we all?) "My mom said no school pics unless I put a turtleneck under it." Way to be a square, Mom.

While these photos don't go chronologically over the course of Jessica's life, it was impossible not to save our last three for last. First, our Tiny Dancer.

"Yep, that's me all the way on the left. I hated every minute of ballet, but I LOVED dressing my brother in that costume." Family reunions are fun at Jessica's house.

Even Jessica calls these final two her "personal grande finale." Does every little girl dream of modeling? Dolce & Gabbana anyone? Marc Jacobs? Perhaps a gig with Karl Lagerfield? (Okay, I never did, but maybe some do.)

Unfortunately, Jessica's modeling gigs were more like an American Girl Doll come to life.

This Mae West outfit, called "PARTY TIME" included "The Works!" with a boa, hat, skirts, and a leotard for mix-n-match fun. What scariest to me is that the age range is 6-12. Really? A 12-year-old here? And the skirt seems to be a bit sheer. Does the mix-n-match fun include a slip?

Finally, I must confess my own creeped-out feelings about the child-bride. Maybe it goes back to my great-grandmother's whole arranged marriage from Hungary, or maybe it's just that little girls in wedding dresses looks wrong. It's wrong I tell you!

Jessica makes a solemn bride here, honoring the seriousness of the occasion--again with the sheer skirt! This set came with the ring and the bouquet. Too bad it didn't also include a blow-up spouse. Okay, that sounds even worse when I'm talking about a child bride outfit. You know what I mean! Stop that!!

Until tomorrow--and keep those submissions coming... my parents made me wear this at gmail dot com.

The Polka Dot Pilgrim

Elementary school memories can be traumatic on many levels--bullying, multiplication tables, handwriting lessons, and that month in 3rd grade in the seventies when they tried to make me learn the metric system.

For poor "Margarite", the trauma is captured on film. Here she is on her first day of kindergarten.

"Nothing says good taste," says Margarite, "like high-waisted acid wash on your first day of kindergarten. The t-shirt advertising Memere's Restaurant is also a real winner. Sadly, it was the haircut that ensured a year of gender confusion. Thanks, Ma."

"First grade's polka dot pilgrim outfit is no better. This wide collar is just asking to act as a bib come lunch time." But, she will be ready come the Thanksgiving Pageant.

"Jumping to third grade. This sweater is an inappropriate choice for picture day, if only for the questionable color-combos. Teal, pink, and yellow is not a good idea, especially in abstract patterns. Is that a triple-X across my chest?" Yes, Vin Diesel, it is.

What's better than itchy brown wool dresses?

Two of them! These poor young women are still recovering from these little numbers.

"My mom bought...these matching brown wool dresses...we hated them!"

"To this day, I can't stand anything around my neck. And I still remember the scratchy, itchy feeling of that wool. Turf Toter (is that what she calls her sister?) got the worst of the deal...She had to wear hers, and then when I outgrew mine, she had to wear that one also." (via)

What's worse than the outfits your parents made you wear? My parents made me wear this, the hand-me-down edition.

Merry Christmas Kids!

Tonight, I dedicate to Christmas. What is the reason for the season? Things like this...

Courtesy of Life is Dynamite, here is Dana. "Me with Santa at age 6 in 1972. This picture explains so many things, most notably my fear of matching outfits. I hated this outfit so much and I had to wear it because my fabulous Aunt Mimi...bought it for me. Undoubtedly the only unfabulous thing she ever did. I remember wearing it to school and standing on line in the cafeteria pretending to be invisible in my head so I didn't have to see if anyone was making fun of me...and it was itchy. Doesn't Santa look thrilled?" Yes, Dana, and so do you. 

In an obvious sign of hindsight being 20/20, the mother of these three has actually apologized to them.  "Here's an apology...If the clothes I put on you hurt your self-esteem or damaged your psyche, I am soooo sorry. The damage done has made you stronger adults." (via)

Let's hope so. 

"Can you ever forgive me? I actually made this sweatshirt dress. It was an original, wasn't it Baby Girl? Surely no one else on the planet had one of these. Again, a lovely homemade bow accompanied the ensemble." (via) Even Santa looks stunned. 

 Of this one, Mom says "we thought the perm would never grow out. What kind of mother would have chemicals put on a child's hair???" (via) 

Sometimes, it's up to me to speak for the children. According to her mother, this little one has 6 separate Christmas outfits, one for each of the holiday events she will be attending. Destined to be a future poster because what child doesn't want to deliver a Christmas message via embroidery on their butt? Either that, or wearing a tartan beret. 

This final holiday entry for tonight is included not so much for the Christmas vest, although that has its merits. 

My larger concern, beyond this child's fashion victimhood, is the fact that this kid is being allowed to put a glass ornament in his mouth, small hook end of course, only before he takes it out of his mouth and puts it in that uncovered outlet! Merry Christmas! Happy Holidays to all our friends and loved ones!

And don't forget to send your favorite hated outfits to myparentsmademewearthis@gmail.com

Shabat Shalom and Happy Hanukah from My Parents Made Me Wear This

Occasionally, I will feature outfits that someone, somewhere, is making their child wear. Tonight, these outfits honor the festival of lights. And in this case, these children have been forced to wear these lovely creations, at least for the time it took to take the photos. 

No Hanukkah celebration is complete without a very special outfit to wear. Let 1-800-Dreidel help you find just the right thing. 

This dress, which is a bit short for my taste, will make your little girl "a princess every Shabbat at preschool or at home. Soft poly/cotton pink dress is all hand-painted...Has candles, kiddush cup, 2 challahs, and words 'shabbat shalom." I'm relieved to hear that it has TWO challahs, because one is never enough. 

Nothing says honoring the past like a white sweatsuit, and this "adorable unisex outfit is...hand-painted and machine washable. Everyone notices a child wearing this to the Hanukkah party." Yes they do, don't they. 

Why should the little ones be left out of the holiday fun? Now, they don't have to be, with this stunning Hanukkah bib. This "newest Hanukkah baby bib is cuter than a picture can show." 

Is it really? Let's hope so!

"The colors are brighter and the design is adorable. The menorah is dancing, the dreidels are spinning, the candles are singing, and the gelt has smiley faces." Dancing menorahs? Candles singing? Oh, the Hanukkah frivolity!

But don't think your older kids are left out of the Hanukkah celebrations! This "cute design says 'I light up for Hanukkah' referring to the Hanukkiah below. DOES NOT ACTUALLY LIGHT UP."  Well, forget it then! (And is that a scrunchy on her wrist, because at 1-800-Dreidel, they've got those too!)

And just to make sure that all stereotypes are well represented, 1-800-Dreidel also has bagel bibs, for your baby's "formal dinner attire." When our son was little, he attended any number of formal state dinners and black tie events, and this bagel bib would have been perfect. 

I thank 1-800-Dreidel for these stunners and hope that in years to come, as this blog grows through the generations, the same children pictured here will submit these photos as what they were forced to wear. Happy Hanukah everyone!

And so it is--the Holiday Sweater

I have a few lovely items for you today. As I wait for your submissions to pour in, (please send them to myparentsmademewearthis at gmail dot com), I have unearthed more gems from my husband's baby book. (He's being a very good sport about this!)

My husband hated piano lessons. Lessons fell at the same time that The Brady Bunch was on tv, and he would have done anything to avoid the dreaded scales and ditties he was forced to play each week. And at the end, the grande finale--the recital. What could have been better than to enjoy his moment in the limelight, encased again, in soft, striped velour. 

Hey, if velour was good enough for his violin recital, why not piano? At least this time, there was cake. 

The holidays were a special time for him, and this photo introduces my celebration of all things holiday. Christmas stockings and bell bottoms. 

All that needs to be said about this one is that his mom seemed to enjoy the low-slung girl's pants, and hip belt. 

Finally, everyone enjoys the frivolity of the Christmas sweater fest. You know--those parties where people scour the Goodwill to find the most hideous sweater they can, voting on who has the worst and laughing as they swig keg beer?

Unfortunately for Peggy, this was not one of those parties.  

Here she is. Sad smile overshadowed by the enormous reindeer across her chest, and without the matching Christmas barrette Jeanine, next to her, got to wear because if you're going to do it, do it all the way. And why did Jeanine get the good sweater anyway? The one with the cute dalmation wearing the Santa hat? 

Of course, my favorite in this photo is the kid on the dark turtleneck, the only one not festooned in plaid, snowflakes, velvet, or a slammin' Christmas sweater. I read his mind to say "how did I get here and when can I get out?"

Are you in the Brownies, a Pirate, or both?

Make no mistake about it. Young "Celeste" loves her mother. She thanks her for those trips to the library every week. She loved the excursions to the County Fair where she and her sister were encouraged to try every new food possible. Celeste's single mother took good care of her girls.

Unfortunately, she also did this.
Celeste's biggest issue with this photo is her eye patch. I'm not sure a piece of medically required equipment can be considered your parents' fault. The bigger issue is that Celeste was not in the Brownies, and yet appears to have been wearing the requisite uniform. (And her mother could at least have let her take the eye patch off for the photo. I'm just sayin'.)

And what does that little yellow button say? Yup. It says GOOD CONDUCT. Our little Celeste, who says her mother still has this button, was desperate for one after "bad kid" Mike Hinchey earned it from their first-grade teacher. Celeste would be damned before she'd let that brat take her award, and she worked even harder until she got one of her own. While her mother chose the outfit, Celeste was determined to wear her button.

Years later, poor Celeste still had her patch, and again, was captured on film during an evening trip to Ames. Just a slice of life with the ladies.
This last outfit was made by Celeste's mother, and ensured that she always stood out from the crowd. Can you pick out Laura Ingalls Wilder from the Fuller School Chorus?

The dress itself was a pale lavender, Holly Hobbie-style print. In addition to the severe bun, with baby's breath adornment, Celeste also wore a corsage, which she received for every special event in her life.

One more important thing to point out, beyond the fabulousness of Celeste's formalwear and hairstyle. The "musical evening...included 'The Gigo Effect--A Computer Adventure."

Here's what Celeste remembers of that little ditty:

"Garbage in, Garbage Out.

That's what memory's all about.

When you put garbage in, garbage out."

The evening also included Erie Canal, because, Celeste looked like she would have a mule named Sal.

It's all in the family

Tonight begins with a story.

The day was gorgeous for holiday photos, and yet, little "Emma" just wasn't feeling it. 57 photos, and many tears later, here's what they got. (And mind you, her cheeks are rosy not because of a charming winter glow, but because, that's what screaming and crying do to a girl.)

She hated the red velour dress, and her 3-month-old baby sister doesn't look thrilled either. Even now, more than twenty years later, she says:

I call this one "Traumatic Christmas Card Photo Shoot of '88"

I'm particularly fond of the double-breasted velour. If this was the best final product, I hope the photographer was either paid well, or never worked again.

(Shameless plug--don't forget! I need your photos too! Email them to myparentsmademewearthis at gmail dot com)

The next is a series of family photos-Young "Sally" in her youth.

"Sally" doesn't remember exactly what that was on her head. A Beaver mask, perhaps?

Yet even now, she dislikes the way her belted mom jeans and polo were designed to make even the youngest wearer look like she has hips. Was the Beaver Mask to distract from the outfit?

This one could be called "Outfits my cousin wore that I hated." (We're not going to talk about the Barney bib.) But the white boots and short-sleeve blazer are certainly a crime against fashion nature. And is it my imagination, or do the boots actually have FRINGE on the sides? Who knew the Dallas Cowboy Cheerleaders recruited so young?

When she went to school, things weren't much better for young Sally.

While others smiled their way through their pre-school experience, poor Sally faced the world in Acid Wash shorts. And with classmates like the guy on the left, with the fab pink shorts and matching tee, who could blame her for her tears in this photo?

It is a reaction to these family and school traditions that has made young Sally into the finely-honed fashion innovator she is today.

Of course, here was her competition:

Young Sally's sister was kicking butt and taking names. Look how she rocked that swimsuit, with the dance skirt that hopefully, someone else bought for her and made her wear because, sheesh, that is a piece of work.

But hey, young Sally wasn't takin' no guff. She's layin' down the law in this:

'Nuff' said. Peace Out.