Saturday, August 9, 2008


This is definitely a house of the 50's. Linoleum, shuffleboard court, and a brick BBQ structure in the backyard where many teenagers stashed beer cans and cigarette butts.

I have laid claim to this still-working gas stove. Pedro used to cook dirt in it.

The beer cans got stuffed down the chimney. It wasn't me. Just to the behind is the woodpile that housed (probably still does) chipmunks and squirrels. My doggo growing up used to tear back and forth trying to get them.

However, there are many remnants of the 1980's here and there as well. I've brought out two of my prom dresses. I recall being very proud that they were "couture" dresses (I was snobby that way). I also know that I got them on sale. I've retained that sense of thrift. Actually, I think I've refined it down to "buys all her clothes at Goodwill" status, which is fine by me.


9th grade. Fuschia Victor Costa strapless. No bows, but the ruffly top is presh. I was the only girl there in a full-length dress. Ah well, at least I had my princess moment. There's a photo somewhere of me and my sister when I'm wearing this dress. She has a surfer girl haircut and is making a hang ten sign with one hand, with a glass of red wine in her (underaged) other hand. I'm wearing aviator Ray Bans.

Senior year: Alfred Sung bubble dress, in a very nice peachy color. I was a bit mortified to see bubble dresses back in style recently. I had a perm when I wore this more understated dress. Note that both of these dress designers have no true connection to "couture" as far as I can tell. More like wedding and bridesmaid dresses.

We'll see what else we come up with.