I was such a goofy kid. Aren’t all kids goofy if given the space to be true to who they are? My clothes rarely matched. It was rare if my hair had been brushed. I tried hard to express my own personal style. My two older siblings were in High School. Obviously, by default they were cool. By the time I had any awareness, much less, self motivation to express my style, you can say…I was that embarrassing little sister. Without trying. It’s part of being siblings. Constantly trying to achieve my sisters level of hair skills was impossible. The way she could feather was the bomb. The calics in my hair have been my nemesis since grade school. Have you ever tried feathering a calic? Not recommended. I had an alternative. Barretts. I dug through her collection and found the perfect match to my outfit. I push my hair back and clip the bangs with a barrett. 


Perfect! Oops. There go a hunk of bangs. Tuck. Clip. UGH…tuck…clip…ARGH! (Can you feel the tension?) I am left with one option. Cut the bangs of course…and definitely to the root so I don’t ever have to deal with them again! I mean…what choice did I have? Not an epic hair day!

There were many days my brother reminded me NOT to acknowledge him at school that day. This only encouraged me to be a brat sister. There is one specific day that stands out most. In my defense, we were out of shampoo. Therefore, I used my sisters baby oil. I just knew this would make my hair feather, just like hers! How was I to know it was for moisturizing in the shower (it was the 80’s people). Well, moisturize it did! Who can blame my brother for not wanting to acknowledge a greasy headed, mismatched, awkward kid. Sibling love.

I have three daughters now. So many lessons being a parent. It continues to teach. Our oldest was only interested in how quickly she could get outside to catch bugs. She didn’t care how big the bow in her hair was that matched her ADORABLE outfit. Now she’s grown and has found her inner, peace loving hippie. The younger two remind me of how I dressed as a child due to so many choices. Basically, they refused to conform to my coordinating bow head style. Once I got over myself, I learned to love it and encouraged it. The whackier the better. In preschool, my middle daughter was known for wearing her blue cowgirl boots…’The girl with the blue boots!’ She still sports her cowgirl boots, even with formal dresses. True to herself. The whackiest yet, is my youngest. I’m convinced she was reincarnated into my inner 4th grader. I’m so proud. To be honest…I’m a little jealous of her claimed style! We should all be so inclined to express ourselves without being self conscious.

As we age, we conform. We conform to our environments, trends, society…you name it. I get it. Self preservation. Today, I look at other artists and see little things revealing their artsy style. I’m craving to reveal my quirky, inner 4th grader for sure. It takes a lot to put yourself out there. As I continue trying to let the world ‘see’ me and show all my colors…my hope is, you will join me as I create all the ideas bubbling up from within. Please keep checking back here to read more of this chicken scratch. I’m about to burst from all the colorful ideas trying to emerge. Meanwhile, I’ll try not to borrow clothes from my 4th grader.