I'm So Vain

I've always hated picture day. Totally and completely hated it. 

Picture day always meant I had to wake-up an hour earlier than usual to make sure I had time to shower, shave, shampoo, condition, and repeat. Then, run to my room to try on seven different outfits and struggle beyond reason to decide which color or which texture or which pattern would bring out my eyes, hide my curves, and make me look good. 

Growing up, I was never the girl who had the super cute outfit with the perfectly primped hair-do and a cute smile to go with it. My mom was always busy running around the house getting my younger siblings ready for school (bless her heart), so there was never any time to curl, poof or prime. Also, I wasn't blessed with an older sister to show me the ropes on beauty and fashion. Which means that my picture days usually consisted of my favorite t-shirt, and--without fail--my hair slicked back in a pony tail (a 1/2 pony tail if I wanted to look really cute and a double pony tail if I was feeling adventurous). I won't even try to describe how crooked my teeth were. Gasp...they weren't pretty. 

In Jr. High I got a little better, but only slightly. I had really long hair at the time and no concept of a straightener--not that that really mattered because my hair naturally fell straight like a board no matter how much hairspray plastered my mane. But at least I had moved on from the pony tail. Plus, who really looks good in braces anyway? (OK, I can name 5 girls who looked super cute with their braces. How they did so is beyond me...).

Then in high school I tried really hard to master the art of getting a descent picture. I observed all girls intently, looking for any clues as to how I could mimic styles I liked (that last sentence makes me sound like a creeper, but most girls creep on each other anyway...right?). The girls in my class always seemed to know exactly where to place each strand of hair, every brush of eye shadow and each stroke of blush. I remember one girl in particular who styled her hair exactly the same ev-er-y single day, and it always looked perfect. To this day I still don't know how she was able to do it. Suffice it to say, I wanted desperately to look perfect just like she did. 

My Sophomore picture showed potential since I finally had my braces removed. Junior year was probably my best year because I discovered that short hair works much better for us fine-haired people. Senior year was OK, except for the fact that I stressed way to much about how to create the perfect poof and ended up with a very flat, overly hair sprayed down-do and a stiff smile. 

Overall, picture day has been more stressful than enjoyable. AndThis is why I'm grateful that college doesn't have picture day.  

*****Fast forward 3 years. 

Last Wednesday, the Section 2 staff for Stowaway Travel Magazine had their pictures taken for our Winter and Spring 2011 issues. Here are some of my results:

I've decided picture day is a lot more fun when you act like yourself: crazy, goofy, serious...whatever. (Too bad they wouldn't let me do that growing up. I'm sure it would have made the year book that much cooler).