A few nights ago, one of many where I stay up till 5 in the morning wondering why, I had a nostalgic urge to look at my high school yearbooks. It's been a few years since I graduated and more than ever, these yearbooks do look like they were made by students (read: grossly amateur). Still, they bring back memories and feelings from that time despite how inaccurate it has been chronicled.
In retrospect, my yearbook photos didn't look "bad" and "ugly". They were fine.
After looking at every photo critically and reading every word carefully, I had the urge to look at my old fashion sketches. I was an incessant drawer and I was known for defacing my school work with sketches upon sketches; sometimes to the detriment of losing marks. I've had an innate interest in art for as long as I can remember and some time during the end of elementary school I became particularly interested in fashion - although I would still gladly discuss music, film, art movements, whatever with anyone. Thankfully, I was smart enough to go through pages upon pages of school work to cut out all the sketches before completely ridding myself of them at the end of the semester.