Early wardrobe mishaps gave me precocious humor


My creativity started early in retaliation for bad dressing
Mom dressed me like this. How mean is that?


I went looking through the family album the other day, which is never a good thing. But I think I finally know why my humor is so twisty and warped.

Despite what the picture above might suggest, I had a happy if spectacularly poorly dressed, childhood. I blame my mother for my wardrobe malfunctions. She blames the 70’s.

Probably a little bit of both.

As far as I can recall, there was no need for me to kick-start early production on my Humor Development line.

Certainly there had been no childhood traumas bad enough to act as an evolutionary trigger.


Maybe I de-dressed myself, to show my dis-taste for my summer attire
This can’t be a wardrobe improvement

Unless it was a by-product from my choosing to go topless rather than be made to wear anything else that made me a Chi-Chi’s restaurant poster child or a runaway picnic table-cloth thief.

Not exactly some of my best moments.

Now I suffer from Precocious Humor (NOT an official medical term), no doubt brought on by a mother who had way too much time, her own sense of humor, and a camera.

It all makes so much more sense to me now. And the reason I’m ever so slightly concerned. Look at Duck’s hat and at mine. Yeah….

Like Mother, Like Son
Maybe he just has the same taste in hats…




24 thoughts on “Early wardrobe mishaps gave me precocious humor”

  1. I had to laugh out loud at this one! I too was a young, 70’s fashion victim. And don’t get me started on the trauma of the 80’s when my middle school peers were dressed in “cute” things (okay, as cute as the 80’s could be) and I was dressed like their grandmothers. The most freeing moment ever came when I was in ninth grade, had some money of my own and bought myself an outfit. 🙂
    Fashion disaster at least gave us a sense of humor!!

    1. The 80’s…shudder…awful time, wasn’t it?
      I felt like I was caught in a brightly lit hell, with day-glow orange and neon-green being the colors of choice. Ah…but like you, I escaped in high school, to a much easier wardrobe of blacks, greys, and whites (never can go wrong with those) With my humor (mostly) intact. 😉

    2. Lol!! I remember one gorgeous 1980’s outfit courtesy of good ol mom.. A glowing orange and white stripe shorts and top number… With a neon green arrow and pic of a pair of sunglasses over the pocket. I shiver as I remember wearing THAT as a 15 yo… I think there is even a pic somewhere of that particular item…It’s a wonder my sense of humor DID survive. Oh yes, my high school days were a haze of blacks and grays as I blissfully bought my own clothes. I remember a teacher laughingly asking me if I was always in mourning. Yes, Sir, just mourning the death of those orange stripes…

    3. Oh yes…I hear it now.That’s the sound only heard from one suffering a
      what were we thinking?! fashion flashback. 😉

    1. Hi and thank you 🙂

      Maybe we should start a 70’s fashion survivor support group. But like Kristi said and I agree-the 80’s weren’t kind either…;)

    2. You too?!
      I think I had the worldest tallest bangs and the biggest White Rain hair spray empty can collection to prove it. Well…until an errant lighter flame caught ’em on fire…ah memories lol

    3. Naw – I had poofy, ethnic ringlet wave hair envy. My poker straight White girl stuff had no ju ju. Hated it… wished for body and curl and undertook torture in perm chair to simulate it–usually to disastrous end.

    4. I too know disaster by way of hone perm and ringlet seeking. Mine sort of took a little too well and…the next 2 years I was always greeted by the theme song from Annie. brrrughhh…;)

  2. Sadly or maybe thankfully, take your pick, all family photo albums got lost due to untold reasons.(ok so I know the reasons) I have no pics from my youth. One of the things I remember was being dressed in polyester pants, hush puppy suede shoes and carrying a fake brief case while in junior high In high school I spent half the time in checked pants and a white shirt with my name stitched on it. Ok so that was the required dress for shop classes.

    1. Aw…I bet you were a cutie Forrest.

      I’ve got this mental image of 007 with the briefcase to carry with me now with really is appreciated. Now I don’t have to listen to the elevator music anymore. Gawd was that boring 😉

    1. Ha! Rightttt…
      I’m sort of afraid to do that.
      What if I broke a hip?

      Not mine, somebody who had the bad luck to be passing by me when I danced? Then it’d be pay me, pay my hip bill, my MD bill, my whatever else bill…


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