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Remember when you were a baby-child (or ya know, in high school), and you had picture day? And it was a really big deal because it was going to be in the yearbook and it's how everyone would remember you for all time and they gave you those awkward impotent little combs to yank through your hair before having your chin posed at strange angles. Good times, friends.
Of course, yearbook photos did and still do cause anxiety and self-consciousness, especially because they're so posed and often tend to capture us at our most strange and adolescent, with bad haircuts and pimples and oddly fitting clothes. Smith, unlike apparently a lot of schools, still does yearbooks and sends them out to the graduated seniors families.
My dad flipped through it and texted me that myself and Lady Lola looked cute on the convocation page. Convocation? That night when we rampage around campus half-naked and yell chants about house pride and booties and whatnot?
Oh shit.
What if I look fat?
I hate to admit it, but those were the first thoughts to run through my head. My primary concern was if I'd be immortalized in the consciousness of my graduating class as tubby girl in a bikini top, sarong, and a leopard print pink plastic fedora.
Some of the issue with this is that with Facebook, you are immortalized on the Interwebz for all time...but you untag with abandon. And trust me in that I abuse that privilege. A little bit of a tummy in one picture? Untag. One eye half-closed (perhaps drunkenly)? Untag. Photo taken from below, the never-even-a-little-flattering angle? Definitely untag.
But has anyone else scrutinized these photos? Would other folks devote half the energy to hatin' on my body that I do to myself? Perhaps, but I doubt it. When friends whine about how bad a picture is that I've put up of them, rarely do I even see their supposed imperfections until they show me them. And even then, who cares? One bad photo among the dozens (hundreds?) of good ones doesn't mean that everyone will forever remember you in that light.
And I finally saw the dreaded yearbook convocation picture (via Skype, thanks to a good pal). And while it is not the most flattering photo of myself, above all else, I look deliriously and genuinely happy to be frolicking with my Albright ladies. And that makes it a beautiful photo all in itself.
What say you? Any Smithies find questionable pictures of themselves in the glories of the yearbook? Does everyone scrutinize their yearbook photos with such nastiness?
Much love,
The Sheriff
BONUS--Celebrity yearbook photos. Why is J Lo so hot always?





