• 61°

Say click, take a pic

Yesterday, I received the Bainbridge High School Class of 2021’s senior pictures for our graduation booklet and it reminded me a bit of some of my own picture days.

I don’t remember a ton of picture days as a child, but there is one particular year that sticks out in my head.

When I was in the fourth grade, our school switched to uniforms. Prior to uniforms, my mom had been adorning me in Gymboree or Old Navy and Limited Too outfits. When it came to picture day, they allowed us to dress in our “regular clothes.”

I had just gotten my first real pair of distance glasses, so I began by insisting my mom let me wear them for picture day.

Today, glasses are trendy and “the thing.” People who don’t even need them to see wear them as a fashion accessory.

However, in 2004 that was not the case, and I’m not sure if I was ahead of my time or just the last to know, but I thought my glasses were cool and I wanted to wear them in the picture.

Next, I insisted I wear my best outfit, which was my Easter outfit.

I believe picture day ended up being the week prior to Easter, so I already had this whole outfit to wear for Easter services and Easter lunch.

I remember it distinctly. It was not a Gymboree or Limited Too set, it was from Belk or Dillards. It was a peach short sleeve sweater top with a bow interlaced at the bottom and a peach colored sheer skirt adorned with small flowers and a peach colored slip underneath. All of course with new white sandals.

My mom suggested that might be a bit fancy, but was she a fourth grader? I didn’t think so. What did she know about fashion?

I showed up on school picture day wearing that exact outfit, my glasses and all to top it off my hair style in a bob cut and looked CRAZY.

Everyone else had on t-shirts and was excited to be dressing down.

My teachers smiled politely at me and told me I looked “pretty.”

My class picture looked bizarre. It was like I was at a Sunday School lesson and everyone else was on the playground.

Whatever, that picture was a bust… on to the next.

My sixth grade year we were still wearing uniforms, but this time no dress down days. I guess, for some reason, people wore crazy outfits and they wanted us to all look like we were attending the same place… weird that some kid may dress different than the rest. It was probably me.

In the sixth grade, I decided to wear the jumper option. I cringe at the mere thought.

I wore a white collared shirt, with a plaid jumper on top and a plaid headband and Clarks for my picture with purple braces.

Looking back on that picture, I am almost more horrified than the sixth grade picture. Mostly, because as I’ve mentioned in a column before, my teacher was wearing the same shoes I was and I looked “lovable” at best.

The final and worst picture I reminisce on was my freshman year of college.

For my sorority, we all had to take composite pictures.

Most public high schools take composite photos, but I never had and didn’t really know the rules of this black shawl thing.

I always had class when the photographer was at our sorority house, so I had to go to make up photos at the fraternity house.

I had it all planned out. I was going straight from my freshman seminar to the fraternity house take the picture and be back just in time for psychology.

I had straightened my hair and done my makeup before class and my roommate was going to meet me there.

As I exited class, it began to sprinkle.

The walk to the fraternity house was roughly 20 minutes.

This can’t be happening I thought. The sprinkles eventually turned to raindrops and when I arrived my hair looked glued to my head, I was sweaty, my eyeliner was smeared.

I just wanted the whole photo to be over with.

I stepped up for my turn with all these boys waiting their turn as well and the photographer told me that my camisole straps were visible, so I needed to slide down the straps past my elbows.

I do as I’m told, and begin to smile for my picture. I believe it was on the second click the camisole slid off my whole arm and there I sat mortified.

The heck with the picture. I was done with this; I couldn’t help but laugh, though.

I couldn’t imagine this happening to any of my sorority sisters, or anyone but me.

Luckily, in these pictures I received last night, no one looked like they had my luck. They looked handsome and beautiful and radiant.

Even in the event they don’t like their picture, I promise it’s just one and there’s plenty more opportunities to take a better or in my case, worse one from here on out.