Child of the 90's

To those who know me, it's not a secret that I very much immersed myself in all that was grunge whilst in high school. My dad didn't know what hit him: he'd order flannel shirts from l.l. bean because he thought they were "ehleegant" and warm, and then they'd disappear. Only to reappear tied around my waist in a much less elegant fashion. I wore doc martens with flowered dresses and black lipstick and cried when Kurt Cobain killed himself. I had a leather jacket with Marlboro reds and a zippo in the pocket, along with a mickey mouse charm that I suppose was meant to be ironic. I shopped at Le Chateau (conveniently located down the street from Churchills...hurray for clove cigarettes) and clearly remember being so excited at having found a perfect shirt: silky white, cut low, ruffles down the front, and tied at the waist. The shirttails could be tied modestly or show a little skin for a more risque look. I wore this shirt with a long skirt and platforms to my senior photos. I loved my outfit, but hated my hair.

Fast forward to tonight: My mother unearths a photo album containing the proofs from my senior pictures and my 7 year old wonders: why is mommy dressed like a pirate?