To start off, I was a rebellious kid. There's no getting around that.
Ok, so back in freshman or sophomore year (I can't remember), around 1986, I was really into drawing, not just on paper, but on my clothes and on my bedroom furniture too. One such item was this faded jean jacket. To top it off, I was also too cheap to buy a lighter so I had several packs of matches in one of the top front pockets. One day, the pocket just started smoking on its own, about to catch fire b/c of all the matches.
By this time, I had already painted on much of the jacket in watercolors, so it could not be washed. Eventually, an ex-boyfriend of mine painted a Grateful Dead skull on the back side of it in oils. This jacket had been hibernating in my house for years and I finally saved it from imminent donation in one of my mom's frenzied decluttering stages.
So, here's the jacket.
Somehow we also talked about how I took the doors off my sliding door closet and painted a brick wall, like Pink Floyd's The Wall, that became my graffiti wall. I then put my drafting table in the closet and it was my creative space.
Eventually, I removed the drafting table and instead had my bed sticking out of the closet. I thought I had a picture of it, but I can't find it. Anyway, around my sophomore year of college, I was kind enough to give up my room to my brother (9 years younger) who had a really teeny room. The logic was that I was gone so there was no need to keep the room. I reluctantly agreed on one condition -- the closet stays. You can guess where this is headed. The guy who painted the room did not understand English very well and proceeded to paint over the wall.
Now, all that is left is one picture that I could find.I leave you with a few pictures of me from the fall of 1986 in that infamous jean jacket. These pictures were taken as part of a photography class, so the exposure is a little off. Here you have me in a parking lot w/ my Led Zeppelin t-shirt looking like a bad-ass.
Here's a picture of a friend and me hanging out up at the cliffs in Alpine, NJ. That's about as far out on the cliffs as I could go. My friends would hope from rock outcropping to rock outcropping. No way for me. I stayed by the trees.
Here's a close up of me and that jacket. Who would have thought back then I'd turn out the way I did. Seriously.
5 comments:
Classic!!!!! Love the snippets of young Robin. I had a jacket too, but it was mostly embroidered and beribboned and beaded. Wish I knew where it was!
HAAAA!!! Those pictures are so awesome. You are badass!!!
I never wash my jean jackets either. But may have to start now.
AHHH the memories! Oh wait, I hated you then :-)
Ok, I realized that my name doesn't show up so let me clarify my last comment by letting everyone know that I'm the little sister. And.. in those badass days, Robin had some serious fingernails and she used them as a weapon!
LMAO! . . . but you love me now ;-)
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