When you’re fresh off the boat, no one tells you what to wear, but more importantly, no one tells you what not to wear. Of course, I can see now why it wasn’t my parent’s top priority to make sure that I make the glam squad or be one of the popular girls in school. My parents like many other parents were busy trying to put a roof over our heads and food on the table, so a girl had to make do with hand-me-downs. To be perfectly honest my parents would have been happy if a potato sack fit me.

img_3694Here is a school portrait of me in the Fouth grade, Little House on the Prairie called, and they want their dress back.

 

img_3695 Here is another one, before I moved to the states, I look like a goddamn communist, ready to work a full 8 hours, pitching hay.

 

img_3701This picture practically looks staged, as if I knew running for government office was in my future. Proving to the people that I too can have a real good time  – Wheee.

If anything can be said about the young me is that she was consistent. The girl sure loved her young Republican look, and if there are two things that the teenage Republicans are good for are 1. Alex P. Keaton, and 2. you can bet your ass a button up shirt can be pulled off by any aspiring chubby yuppie. Despite not knowing what Republican meant back then, I figured it made for a cool look. As for me now, not much has changed, can’t go wrong with the whole American psycho look. Tailored made suits, slick back hair, and enough coke to last a lifetime sounds like a dream come true. So if I had a time machine to go back and change things around for my portly self, maybe I’d have her start on the coke earlier, because a coked out look is very chic. But then again, I don’t think I would like myself after learning the true definition of a Republican.

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