Scanning my #$@! photos, Days 19 & 20: If you don't remember the '70s, your grandparents weren't there with a camera

As penance for missing another day (what is it about Fridays, anyway?), a fashion bonanza for lovers and haters of that shining hour for fashion, the 1970s.

Our first stop? The fireplace dyptych. Whether saluting my love for "plaid"...

...or my 1/124th Aztec heritage...

...I did it with verve, pluck, and a certain, Chicago-ey je ne sais wtf?

And speaking of Chicago, let me note right upfront that no matter how chic I was, my Midwestern practicality forbade foolish extravagance. Even without the aid of modern 'styling', I knew almost instinctively, how, with the mere replacement of vest and beaded choker with a saucy yarn 'belt', to transform my look from 'wintry elegance' (above) to 'springtime sass':

yarn belt

Of course, stitch wizardry is every fashionista-on-a-budget's bestest secret weapon. Some girls have Armenian seamstresses; I had "Mom", who not proved invaluable come Halloween, but was instrumental in creating holiday magic at a price:

Nancy girl

Of course, as I grew up, so did my taste. I started approaching fashion with a more playful eye, and began pushing the envelope when it came to traditional holiday garb:


Summer! Winter! What were these to me but seasonal 'suggestions'?! I would wear "summer" in "winter", and "powder blue corduroys" and "Quiana print shirts" whenever the hell I felt like it!!!

Quiana shirt

About this time (age 15-16), I also discovered the subtle allure of fine, French perfume (see Jean Naté spray bottle, above), as well as the sultry allure of a not-smile: what an upside to buck teeth and braces!

Armed with these secret fashion weapons, I was all but unstoppable. It was not until I discovered the culotte, however...


...that my undisputed reign as Queen of Cowtown Style truly began...