I used to believe that I was adopted, I mean, really believe it to my core. I endured some of the(eee) most backwards shit as a kid, and every single transgression had a gross justification. Take this picture for example, there are two very wrong things going on here. That look on my face is not just depair and disdain, it is also deeply rooted in shame.
I used to have this green jumper, that was offensive, not just to those that had to witness it, but to my vag area. I was a tall kid and this outfit just didn’t fit, it was too short and it downright hurt my “Cu-Co” (as grandma would call it). My mother loved this thing for some reason, as you can see her proudly accessorizing it with Mr. Roper’s scarf.
MESSAGE: Don’t do this to your tall kids, it shits on their self-esteem and more importantly, their self-assessment.
Alright, let’s get to the more obvious. Why the hell do I have a haircut that speaks more to the military than it does to the first grade? Simple: some Latin folk believe that cutting your daughter’s hair, makes it grow back stronger. I really wish I had a better reason like I caught lice at school or had finished my chemo, but no, this was my mother following the directions of her elders on how to get my hair in that “Head and Shoulders” commercial condition.
So, what do you get when you dress your 6 year old girl in a Soul Train outfit and give her a buzz cut? A baby Lou Diamond Phillips!