Style Icon

Way back in May, I was sharing some long-ago photos (Throwback Photos 1 & Throwback Photos 2), and at the time, I promised a Style Icon post as well. I thought I had a bunch of images, but then when I started writing, I only found two pictures! At first, I started to post it anyway. I start out with. . .

“A couple of last retro photos. If thespian was a stretch, well, Style Icon is even more of a stretch. If only I could find that Christmas morning when I scored a Flashdance sweatshirt, I’d have a much more compelling series.”

But then it just seemed too short and tragic. I decided I’d add my prom photos, but that would entail locating my prom photos, and so I stalled out again. Until recently, when I stumbled across a Google folder of “Style Icon” photos that I set aside. Feast your eyes, people!

First: looking forward to a future at Wimbledon, I was dressed in a tennis togs outfit and, that’s right, saddle shoes. In spite of many lessons over the years, I never achieved tennis proficiency. Honorable mention goes to my chair, part of a 1970s vinyl set that played a large role in many years of childhood.

I’m trying to go in roughly chronological order, and my guess is that this next image is from about 1975, because that was the height of the Pet Rock craze, and I’m clutching my trendy new “companion” while sporting a tic tac toe nightie with matching bloomers. I’m posed in front of a pierzyna, the Polish word for a big down comforter, and I’m having a sleepover with a neighbor girl at my grandma’s house in Bayonne. I was a huge fan of these nightie-and-bloomer ensembles, and part of me wishes I had some now. The rock, like all my other childhood pets, is now lost forever.

I distinctly remember absolutely loving this purple dress and thinking that I looked quite fabulous in it. Now, why oh why wouldn’t the photographer suggest that I shake that pinafore out so that it laid correctly in the picture? I don’t know, but it’s worth keeping in mind that all of these pictures were taken by amateurs. One might say: complete amateurs.

Here I am looking extremely elegant on my way to my friend’s birthday party tea. 1970s chevron skirt? Check. Macrame handbag? Check.

Christmas, 1978: some really very fantastic knee-high boots and an extremely sophisticated sweater for an 8-year-old. I desperately wanted to pose, but my little sister was uncooperative. Also: I’d say that this passes as a Dorothy Hamill haircut, would you? Much much better than my later forays into layering.

Which reminds me, I used to curl my hair with a curling iron every morning before school in the 3rd grade. Now that I am a grown-up who knows 3rd graders, this seems insane to me. But we did live in Texas at the time, and hair was very important to us.

And here’s what I’m saying about the tragic layering. I often had unfortunate layered haircuts that had many members of the public so convinced that I was a boy that I got my ears pierced in kindergarten so that people would let me into the girls’ bathroom at the local rec center. Here, that unfortunate hair has grown out a bit, and I am absolutely rocking the polyester peasant pantsuit look. I’m obviously feeling super-cool posing on my dad’s yellow Fiat convertible, and from the looks of this landscape, I think I’ve got a bitchin’ swingset in my future.

My turn toward sophistication continues as I model this white eyelet top, sewn by my mom, at the zoo. Am I pensive because I am fretting that the bears are not getting enough mental simulation, or possibly because I realize that the years in which short, puffy sleeves are flattering on me will soon over? I’m not sure, but I’m glad we captured the moment!

Here I am posing with my birthday gifts on my 14th birthday. Please note the Most Important And Compelling Piece of Art that every dancer of the early 80s simply had to have. But even better, check out the cassette tapes I received: Cyndi Lauper’s Girls Just Wanna Have Fun, Prince’s Purple Rain, and Bruce Springsteen’s Born in the USA. I knew quality when I heard it!

I believe that I have a black nylon Capezio ballet bag (“‘Capezio’s been dancing since 1887’. . . boy, their legs must be tired!”) slung over my shoulder. Also, I am rocking some acid-washed denim and braces, so, in short, looking pretty awesome.

And finally, here’s a silly pose from my high school years. I am wearing Guess jeans, which were oh-so-hot at the time! (Dang! This is reminding me that I wish I had documentation of some absolutely shredded denim on which I’d used a Benetton patch that I’d removed from a sweater and placed on the butt of my jeans as a Statement. Loved those jeans, loved that sweater.)

And also, I don’t know where the hell I found this shirt, but it was SO cool. Wait, I remembered! I think I bought it in Paris: no wonder it was cool! Silk, oversized, with different little people figures all over it. Do you ever mourn the clothes that you used to have, that you donated or passed along and lived with regret forever ever? This is one of those shirts for me. It probably wouldn’t fit me these days, but I could’ve passed it on to M or J. But, let’s face it: they are their own Style Icons.