Nice pants.....
It is always good to mock yourself, so that is why I am willing to tell you; I wasn't always the uber-cool kid I am now. In fact, I was quite the opposite. I was a loser. Not just any kind of loser though. I mean I always had friends, and I always had fun at school. But I was that weird kid, who dressed funny... no really... it was bad enough that I am writing about it now.My fashion faux pas, lasted from grade 7- early 11, with the peak years being grade 8 and 9. I was into rock music back then, but mostly classic rock, The Beatles, and Hendrix topping my list. And for some reason, which now is waaaay beyond me, I thought "Alexandra Graham Bell, you should dress like a hippie, to fit in with your favourite music!" So I did, well at least I tried, mostly though I didn't dress like one. I just dressed like some little kid with negative fashion sense. It started with the pair of red and white striped pants I dug out of my mom's closet. THEY WERE HIDEOUS. They were bell bottoms, and they were diagonal lines that sort of zig zagged. I wore them with pride.
For shirts, I mainly stuck to baggy t-shirts that were for the most part black. I had one for Bush-X... oh it was old enough to still maintain the "X". And I had my Jimi Hendrix one (I still bust it out if I am running low on clothes... for shame). I wore these shirts with anything, and everything. I usually paired them with a fuzzy black zip up.... even in the summer. I told you I was weird.
For shoes... it was THE MOLES. Anyone who knew me in those days, should remember the moles. I wore those fuckers for a long time. They were black running shoes, and they had a little mole on them, and I put my own sparkly shoe laces in them, just to be EXTRA cool. I even wore them in grade 10, the very first year I played in Blue's Alley (Mayfield's sweet senior jazz band). And as we did a song where the entire band stood in a row in front of the stage, my mother still remembers to this day, the embarrassment she felt when the lights caught the sparkles, revealing the ugliest, beat up shoes... on the feet of her daughter.
After my start into fashion hell with the red and white pants, I added many other atrocities to my wardrobe. I two skirts, one black, the other dark grey. They went to just above my ankle, and had cargo pockets on the sides of them about half way down. They were from the Bay, which should tell you what age group might have been better suited for these skirts. I wore my baggy t-shirts with them, and of COURSE the moles, and as for my socks, the brighter the better. I also was one of the baggy jeans wearers. Many a pair of baggy ugly jeans served me through to grade 10 or 11, when I joined the world of bootleg and normal flared pants.
Then, came the hair. I dyed it, well streaked it. But wait, you must be saying, that is not so radical at all. In fact, many many ladies streak their hair Alex! But, I ask you... do they streak their hair PURPLE ???? Because I did (I would like to take this time to throw a little shame to my bestest bud Liz, who also put some of my purple hair dye into her own locks... Sorry Liz, you know I luv ya, but that is just gold...)... in Grade nine. My first year of five, at Mayfield Secondary School, I died my hair purple. How I ever lived past that without taunting, and still had friends for my remaining years, is beyond me. Thank god it was an arts high school!
Then came THE PANTS. One day, while shopping with my mom, I found a pair of pants in 'le chateau', that I JUST HAD TO HAVE!!!!!!!! They were paisley printed, and were bright blue, green, and orange. Yes, I just told you, I owned a pair of paisley print, blue, green, and orange pants. Laugh, it's ok, I do. I wore this suckers with pride, at the time of my purple hair. And I thought my shit didn't stink. I was the greatest thing since sliced bread. I often wondered why on earth, was I the only person who owned these pants (other than one girl, a few years older than me, who also owned these pants, making her WAY cool in my books).
One day, I was walking down the hall. (for you Mayfield kids reading this, it was the hall that went west past the entrance to the servery in the cafe towards the exit to the teachers parking lot). Now, a lot of older people hung out in this area, and most of them were the kind of people who dressed normal, and not in paisley pants. So, there I was in my niner glory, Hendrix shirt, purple hair, paisley pants, and of COURSE the moles. I am sure I was playing some sweet walking music in my mind, like Stayin Alive... the kind of beat that BEGS you to walk along to it. When all of a sudden I hear the voice of an older guy, *sarcastic voice* "Hey... nice pants." So I turn, and in all seriousness say, "Thanks! They're from le chateau!" and keep on going, not missing a beat in my walking tune. I really thought he liked my pants. It wasn't until years later, when I finally laid the pants to rest, in a garbage bag to the Salvation Army, did I remember the day, I was clearly mocked, but chose to ignore it.
Oh man, sometimes, you just gotta make fun of yourself. This is one of those times. I have a picture somewhere of my in the skirt and moles get up. If I ever get it scanned, it's going to be posted. But really, I couldn't have been the only kid who was THAT weird... could I???
I really need to: Clean my van... she is one dirty lady these days. I am sorry bitch van, and I am sure that every person who has left garbage in you over the past while (and that is A LOT of people), are all sorry too!
posted by passionflake @ 12:36 AM
1 Comments:
T-UNIT!
Look i read this crazy blog shit and i think you got waaay too much time on your hands if you writing all that shit about your becoming of a looser with funny hair :-P
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