tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153858125537119389.post4928129887119549285..comments2024-01-10T00:49:58.946-08:00Comments on The Matchbook: "My God, how I love Hats."Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17274259856710507938noreply@blogger.comBlogger3125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153858125537119389.post-70182129135599174612007-11-04T14:57:00.000-08:002007-11-04T14:57:00.000-08:00The Hub and I met in sixth grade English. He thoug...The Hub and I met in sixth grade English. He thought I was a very small boy.Ann Mariehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/17126619445123127372noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153858125537119389.post-92163408136330829202007-11-04T13:54:00.000-08:002007-11-04T13:54:00.000-08:00By high school, yes. Even by late middle school, ...By high school, yes. Even by late middle school, yes. I had really embraced thrift store shopping by then . . . but 6th grade. Man, 6th grade was a freakin' killer . . . and, hey, I'm glad you felt pretty enough to carry it off! You most definitely were/are!Bridgethttps://www.blogger.com/profile/17274259856710507938noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153858125537119389.post-81092360219552756192007-11-04T12:57:00.000-08:002007-11-04T12:57:00.000-08:00Oh please. We were better dressed than anyone at t...Oh please. We were better dressed than anyone at that school, and you were the one who gave me the guts to go for it - my dad's jackets, thrift store ties and scarves, Madonna one day and Molly Ringwald the next (it was the 80's, after all). I never would have felt pretty enough to carry any of it off if you hadn't put makeup on me for the first time - I didn't even recognize the face in the mirror.Ann Mariehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/17126619445123127372noreply@blogger.com