Welcome, jinxie!

I actually own the photo that I wish my mom had never taken, because I stole it. It's god awful. I was trying to look wistful, or something. It's laughable and horrible and cringe-inducing by all who gaze upon it. I think I was 12 at the time. I'm embarrassed just thinking about it.

Oh, I have a lot of potential blackmail stashed away where my kids can't find it. I'm with you. This is just something that parents do. We are not taught this - it's instinct.

Ugh, my senior graduation pic. I saved money and had my parents take it. I love my parents, but I looked scary.

LOL @ iconomy! I have one that I call my mesmerized alien look. I feel your pain.

I'm actually not embarrassed by my grade eight grad pictures, surprisingly, because I'm not photogenic and usually look terrible in pictures. My mother made my dress. It was red, because I passionately loved red at the time (all the other girls were in pink or blue). I also had red shoes with bows on the toes, and red stockings. It's definitely a late eighties look, but let me tell you it looks a hell of a lot better than anything out of a Molly Ringwald movie. I still think my dress was the nicest, most flattering, and most classic in style of any in my graduating class. Though the other girls still look okay - more eighties than me, but not risibly so. It's some of the boys who look the worst now, with their spiked hair and wrinkly cotton Miami Vice suits.

Avoid trends! The morning after will come and you don't want to wake up next to them!

Welcome, jinxie!

Thank you, jrossi4r!

This is just something that parents do. We are not taught this - it's instinct.

I know, I feel the force and am powerless against it, iconomy. I think I'll bring out the all-but-naked, save for rubber boots and a plastic toolbelt, for his first serious girlfriend.

muddgirl: My mother took this series of shots as well, posing me on the master stairs of the house. The only reason I've yet to destroy them is the battle that takes place inside my head regarding the bad dress, hair, 4" white platform shoes, synthetic white shawl and the love for the nubile body encased in such.

I remember being shattered for years that nude polaroids taken by an ex boyfriend would surface at an inappropriate time (like while serving as chair of my son's daycare committee). Now? I'd PAY to have them back so I could blow them up, frame them and proudly hang them in my bedroom.