Aunt Jenny took these pictures of jr. when he was only 3 months old, and I just came across them again. And lest you think we are awful, awful parents, please know that we didn't cut his hair this way-- it just kinda fell out everywhere except the top of his head.
posernoun 1. a person who habitually pretends to be something he is not
I am a poser. Just thought you should know.
At the beginning of high school I was absolutely obsessed with Nike. I had to have everything Nike Nike Nike. I attended a youth conference service project once wearing a Nike outfit, complete with a Nike wristband. While eating lunch I met a guy who later that night got my contact info (don't worry, he was nowhere near as cute as Josh is). We kept in touch for a little while, and later I found out that the reason he had wanted to get to know me better was because I was all 'sporty' and he liked girls who were really into sports.
If you know me at all, you probably know that I hate sports. I am the least coordinated girl in the entire world. No, really.
So anyway, when I got to college, I decided to change my look. I bought me some awesome skater shoes (they were in style in 2000, guys!) and was suddenly obsessed with shopping only at thrift stores. I wore crazy bracelets and lots and lots of colors. I really liked people to notice me because I was 'unique'. I liked the stares I got as I walked around campus. I realized I had succeeded in my objective when I was invited to a punk concert by a couple of similarly-dressed friends I had made. I turned the offer down because I would have no idea what to do if I actually went to a concert like that!
That's what cool punk people do, and I was only a poser.
After I got back from my mission, all my clothes were out of style, and let's be honest, something you buy from D.I. or Savers will only last so long since it's already second-hand. Then it just starts looking gross. So I decided to start dressing in black.
Why black? I'm not exactly sure. Black is slimming. It is classy. As a musician, I often had to wear all black anyway for my performances. But I think I went a little overboard, as always. I would go shopping and come back with more black clothes. Pretty soon I was well-known for wearing black. Then I dyed my hair black.
Yeah... while I was engaged, our bishop confronted me about it. He said he had been concerned about me, and hoped that I would dye my hair a different color before I got married. Once again, people had begun to judge me (and worry about me!) because of my appearance.
You think that the way you look might not matter. But it does! You are how you dress.
Unless, of course, you're a poser like me.
Epilogue: Yes, to this day I'm still a poser... sometimes I still wear my maternity clothes.