(Myself, Kenny G (my date for homecoming), Kenny B, my bff Tracy, Gene and Chrissy
High school was an interesting time for me. My parents had lost their house and we were roaming from rental to rental like a band of nomads. I had morphed from preppie geek girl to punk rocker between freshman and sophmore year. My once light brown hair was dyed blue black, I pierced my nostril and wore a uniform of all black with monkey boots on most days.
When the homecoming dance came around, my friend Tracy and I went dress shopping. We idolized Siouxsie Sioux of Siouxsie and the Banshees and wanted to emulate her. I found the perfect dress: all black with a sheen to it to match my hair. Tracy found a black lace dress that hugged her waist.
I don't remember much from that night. I am sure I drank too much and I remember that Kenny G wore a shiny silver suit and Kenny B carried a cane and top hat.
What is also interesting is how my perception of myself that night was so warped. I remember feeling fat. Yet, looking back all I see is a curvy, young rather Goth looking girl with fabulous blue black hair who had style.
Even though I may pretend, deep down inside I am not the staid and lawyerly type. I am still a rebel. So last night when my hair stylist asked me, "Are you sure you want to go that dark. That's really black."
My head moved up and down and I said firmly, "Fuck it. Go for it."
All I need now are some combat boots.
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