Listen, kids. In 1992, we didn’t have digital cameras. We certainly didn’t have digital cameras on our phones! The luxury of retaking a selfie 800 times to make sure we looked pretty was not something we possessed. THE WORD SELFIE DIDN’T EXIST. As a result, this is what my photos looked like.
This was me in 1992. I’m in my very first San Francisco apartment at the corner of Masonic and Page in the Haight. I was wearing an L7 t-shirt, a female grunge band I discussed earlier this week, and who recently got back together (yay!). In 1992 I listened to them by inserting a CD into a CD player. I ate large plates of pasta covered with tomato sauce from a jar because I didn’t have much money. I had a spiral perm. My boyfriend, whose identity I tried to protect here, leased the apartment while I was still living in Colorado. I agreed to move into the place with him sight unseen. Apparently I was pretty laid back back then.
This was our very first night in the apartment. My belongings were scattered all over the floor. We eventually decorated the place with tapestries and Bob Dylan posters and tchotchkes picked up from sidewalk sales (there seemed to be a lot more of those back then, maybe because Craigslist didn’t exist yet?)
Aren’t throwback Thursdays fun? Also, I may be having a little too much fun with my Sprout (more here and here). But hey, I never learned Photoshop, having come up in a time when it didn’t exist, so it’s endlessly fun to play around with this thing.