Savannah Harlow

Oh the joys of picture day. It’s that time of year again. Over the years we change our looks, trends, and outfits. Sometimes for the better, and sometimes for the worse.

When you were little we were all the same. If you were anything like me when you were younger picture day was a stress free, minutes out of class kind of day. That was of course until your parents picked out the itchiest, most uncomfortable outfit ever.

Then there’s the car ride to school. Your parents get you to practice your smile, posture, and fixing the hideous bows and clip they force you to put in earlier that morning.

When you get out of the car after a long ride, you hear the final “Goodbye, love you, smile big!” and step out the car.

By the time the pictures are being taken, you have spilled your juice box all over your previously clean white shirt and there are crumbs all over your mouth as you smile. When the photographer says you’re done, you leap out our chair and go about your day without a care in the world what the picture looks like.

On the other hand, as a teenager, you are probably very different from when you were young. Picture day is very stressful for most teenagers. You have to pick out outfits, which is not as easy as it sounds.  You cant pick anything too flashy or out-there, but you can’t wear a t-shirt and sweats either.

After taking 3 hours to pick out the perfect outfit, put on a full face of makeup, and spray tons of hairspray to tame the lions mane you get in the car, you pull down the visor to look in the little mirror for last minute check ups as your mom fusses every time saying “You look fine!” or ” Quit worrying, your hair is okay!” All you can think is that your mom doesn’t understand. This picture will be in the yearbook for everyone to see until the end of time.

When the car comes to a stop and you’re at school you beg your mom for the last time to not buy the picture, like she does every year. She of course says “No” as you turn away rolling your eyes.

When the picture is taken you kindly ask the photographer for a quick glimpse of the picture only to receive a blunt “No.”

After two long weeks of waiting for your results, the teacher hands them out. The anticipation of unfolding the envelope is so high you almost don’t even want to. You open it up only to hide it moments later. In about 10 seconds there’s an outburst of “Let me see yours,” or ” No, it’s embarrassing.” Holding it to your chest you silently wonder if it’s still too late to get rid of it?