childhood photos

Every once in a while, people ask me why my photo page still offers up only a single rodent weasel, particularly now that I have a digital camera. Well, after Rayne this weekend, I present a new occasional crabwalk.com feature: I Wore That?
Consider it a trip through bad fashion decisions past. Luckily enough, all of today’s examples come from ages 5 to 9 or so, so fashion blame has to go primarily to the adults in my life who had credit cards and, thus, some degree of control over my clothing. (Note: these are digital photos of scrapbook photos, so the quality’s iffy on some. And these were designed for a Mac, so they’ll probably look dark on a PC.)
– A stunning vest. Archival research shows that Mazie was waaaay too into the vests-for-Josh movement in the early 1980s. Notice the lovely western pattern on the shirt, and the distant look in the eyes. (This is the same outfit, except I look really surly.)
– Speaking of western looks. That’s an allergy necklace, by the way.
– Look at the size of that bow tie! This was taken after my first communion, and the look on my face sums up my thoughts on organized religion at the time.
– Notice the writing on the shirt: “Drag Strip Fever.” That’s called casting against type. Also notice the watch: on my right wrist, not my left, a practice I continued until The Teen Years. And shoved so far up my arm it might as well be wrapped around my elbow.
– I’m sure my sour look is caused by my internal concerns about ethnic stereotyping.
– Look at those ears! Epic in scale! Thankfully, my head eventually grew to match them. (No jokes, please.)
– Fuzzy photo, but conclusive proof that I once wore overalls non-ironically.
– Check out those velcro kicks.
– Stylin’.
– Which one of these two people became a rock star and which one became a nerdy writer?
Finally, three bonus photos:
– Childhood bunnies.
– Proof that I wasn’t the only bad dresser circa 1984. (That’s Mazie on the left and my mom on the right.)
– And finally, I wrote this back in October:
In Pigeon Falls Forge [Tennessee], they had, among other things…the Police Museum, featuring the life story of McNairy County Sheriff Buford Pusser, who was shot eight times and knifed seven more (I have a very strong childhood memory of the sign at the entrance: “We Have Buford Pusser’s Death Car”).
Well, now there’s proof. (Cousins T-Ron and Pam on either side.)