Growing up on the east coast meant many things: Summer thunderstorms, fall leaves that just won’t quit, and the requisite 5th grade trip to Williamsburg, VA.
You’d clutch your brown paper lunch as you walked past wig makers and silversmiths to the town square where the tour guide in a three cornered, felted hat would stop quite suddenly. There before him were two tall wooden contraptions with holes for arms and a neck.
The stocks.
Dear 12 Year-Old Me,
I‘m not sure you’ll be able to enjoy any of this letter until I first let you know that, yes, those Mickey Mouse underwire bras at JC Penny’s that you’ve had your eye on will one day be yours. You’ll have to wait a while, though, because you won’t fit into a cup size until 11th grade. I promise it’s going to happen, you just have to give it time.
**
On any given Thursday social media is filled with the hashtag #tbt. Pictures of a smocked dress, braces, and so many mall bangs stare back at us through our phones. Some are downright cute and others are, well, downright perfect.
I give you exhibit A:
Acting is one of the strangest vocations you can choose; like many occupations, it involves selling a product. However, in an actor’s case that product
There’s something quite peculiar about looking at an image and seeing the same outline, yet entirely different colors. A few days ago -- in just over 24 hours -- our entire country was inundated with a dress that most thought was white and gold, while a
Even early on in a child’s development the notion of cool is very much in tact. I distinctly remember sitting criss cross applesauce on a cold linoleum floor as names were called for Student of the Month. Kindergarteners weren’t old enough to be eligible, but