When I reached the upper grades in high school, my confidence soared and I left behind the fashion path that many of my peers chose. Instead, I donned my treasured tassled leather jacket, mixed it up with ripped up jeans, HUGE hair (no lie, one time my chemistry teacher asked the kid behind me if he could see the blackboard…) and Guns n’ Roses t-shirts. My mother bought me a black leather mini skirt and it could not have made me happier…..
I wore that skirt a lot. I loved it.
Until one day when my English/writing/western civilization teacher, whom the majority of us dubbed “Piggy”, for obvious reasons yet to be explained, asked me if I could, and I quote, “Do a cartwheel in front of him.”
In retrospect, I think that was just a tad bit DISGUSTING.