A suggestive wedding portrait. With lace.
Oh. Oh dear.
Oh dear, male.
And lest you think I am being a snob, well, okay, fine. I am being a snob but I am a snob that harbors my own perfect portrait gone hideously awry, so there. Or here. Yes, here, behold:
Channeling Kenny Loggins and Loretta Lynn...
There is no explanation, just this: this gem was taken years ago before Bryan and I got married. Bryan’s mom had taken the whole family plus me to one of those portrait studios in the bad mall, you know, the mall with the Hot Topic store and the teenagers battling cystic acne? The photographer was 18 and wore an elf hat and for what seemed like eternity she posed us in clusters calling out, okay now big sister get behind big brother, put your hands on his shoulders! And smile! Remember you love big brother! And oh how I wanted to freak out the little elf and turn my big brother Bry around by his shoulders and make out with him, tongue and all. Perhaps this would not have surprised her much. Perhaps she had seen much worse in her gig as photog to the stars of the bad mall. Perhaps she would have kept on shooting, a chain store Diane Arbus who recognizes that all of society is a franchised fringe.
Something tells me that Diane Arbus wouldn't have swallowed handfuls of barbituates and slashed her wrists if she had access to Sexy People. Because I'm telling you, seeing all of these photos with feathered hair and parasols? Something about it, well, it just redeems humanity in all its pathetic glory.
Happy Hump Day!