Do I make it look easy? It is. And it isn’t. I went through hundreds of photos today, looking for the perfect photo to wrap up this salute. And I found some gems, boy howdy. (The fashions! The hairdos!) But what is most notable in the aggregate (which is the point of this 21-day thing) [...]
Scanning My #$@! Photosâ„¢
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 [...]
It’s been interesting noting what I think and feel as I go through these old, medium and less-old photos. Sometimes I’m wonder what I would tell the Colleen of That Particular Past were I given the opportunity. Sometimes I struggle to recall how I felt when the photo was taken, and whether or not I [...]
You know that whole vogueing thing Madonna lifted from the gays back in the 90′s? Fuck Madonna. I didn’t need videos or bustiers to strike a pose; I worked my shit in polyester turtlenecks and matching red barrettes from Walgreens. And those big, elaborate shows she’s so famous for? Ha! Cast your eyes on this, [...]
I make a nice statue, huh? xxx c
Before my big head overtook my big features, I was a pretty photogenic kid. As proof, I offer up to you the following piece of electrifying photojournalism, from the Chicago Tribune, August 30, 1964: I have no real memories prior to age 3; most of things I call ‘memories’ are just admixtures of other people’s [...]
I have no words. Except… It cost a lot of 1988 dollars to get my hair looking like that. And no, those are not extensions. xxx c
As penance for skipping a day of exercise, I’m doing a little extra today. That’s right: five, count ‘em, five, slices of the communicatrix as underclassman. For the most part, I have given up the follies of my girlhood: Long fingernails (bad on short nailbeds). Track suits and green plastic sunglasses (bad on everyone). Wheat [...]
Honestly? I remember the songs and the coloring and the carrot peeling and the Montessori method of putting on your coat, but I do not remember comportment class. That Miss Voros, though? She was a bitch. Mrs. Kenneth was the shit. Straight up. xxx c
Three cheers for new beginnings, the end of 95º weather, and the red, white & blue. Now, let’s get to work, people… xxx c
