I Used To See It

I Used To See It

I wanted Glamour Shots so badly. I was 15. All the cool, pretty girls at my High School were getting them and passing out their wallet-sized photos to everyone who would take one. So, of course, I secretly wanted to join their “club”.

Glamour Shots were based on Hollywood glamour photography and the idea evolved into a mall-based business phenomenon. At kiosks, women and girls were offered makeovers and photo sessions with a focus on dramatic looks and poses. Imagine lots of makeup, boas, pearls, gloves and multiply it by 10! Yes, Creepy! But I just couldn’t wait to be in front of one of those Glamour Shot cameras.

My small town in Texas did not have a mall. So, in order to get Glamour Shots, I’d have to get to the “big city”, in my case Dallas. Or I could get someone to drive me to the Broadway Square Mall in Tyler, Texas, which is exactly what my grandmother did.

And, amazingly, it turned out my grandmother knew all about Glamour Shots because she actually had her own taken at the mall before me! I was so jealous when she showed me a batch of her wallet-sized photos with her wearing a boa and pink cowboy hat. Yep.Right then, yet another reason, I knew I needed to get my own Glamour Shots and SOON!

So, after dinner one night, while she was cleaning the kitchen, I asked my mother: “Can I please, please get Glamour Shots made?EVERYONE at school is getting them.Even my grandmother got some!”

“No, Shelley. Of course not! They are too expensive and will make you look ridiculous, just like your grandmother!”

You got that? I guess her answer was no!

I suppose she was in a bad mood. Or maybe she just really hated Glamour Shots.Either way, I needed a better plan.

And, lucky for me, a few months later that summer while I was in Dallas, visiting my aunt, I got a good chance at getting my very own GLAMOUR SHOTS.

The first day of my visit I took a deep breath and just asked my aunt, “Will you take me to get Glamour Shots?”

And right away she asked me:

“You really want Glamour Shots?” and, without skipping a beat, I launched into my very best argument.

“YES!!! I REALLY REALLY want Glamour Shots!EVERYONE has them. Even my grandmother! I asked Mom but she said they were too expensive and tacky.”

And then, like in a dream come true, my aunt just said, “OK!”

Plain and simple.

She didn’t hesitate. She didn’t have to think about it. She just said OK.

Well now, let’s take a time out here. Because thinking back to that time 30 years ago, I have to tell you the truth. I’m remembering that deep down I had a funny feeling that this might not turn out too well.It happened fast. Because here’s what my aunt quickly added:

“Well, we won’t go to the mall, because they ARE expensive. But I can get you dressed up and take pictures just like the real ones. No one will even know the difference.”

Well…. sure, no one might KNOW the difference.But I knew I was going to SEE the difference once the photos were developed.

But, like I said, being 15 and all, I didn’t want to think about that. Not right then. Because I didn’t care. I mean, I was on the path to having my OWN Glamour Shots!

Now, I think it’s truly amazing what you don’t know about your family members, or anyone for that matter until they are put in certain situations. People either shine or fail. And my aunt kind of shined so brightly that day I needed sunglasses!

I didn’t know that my aunt was Annie Leibovitz, one of America’s most famous portrait photographers. Of course, she wasn’t really Annie Leibovitz. But the way she took control of my photo shoot, as she moved furniture and constructed backdrops, I would have thought I was on a Vogue Magazine shoot. And I relished every single moment!

After her Zenith Console TV’s top was cleared of knickknacks, the cream-colored mini blinds (which were behind the TV) were closed shut, a white queen-size bedsheet was thumbtacked over those windows, and lamps were strategically placed around the living room for mood lighting, it was time for my hair and make-up!

This was obviously my favorite part. My aunt, just like my grandmother, loved makeup.Her hot pink make-up bag was like a Willy Wonka candy store full of blushes, eyeshadows and lipsticks. My aunt’s motto was, “The MORE the better!”

In no time, my full face was made ready for the LIGHTS, the CAMERA, and the ACTION!

And when I looked in the mirror, I saw my future 20-year-old self. DAMN! I looked good. I could get used to this.

Because I wanted this to be a “Rock Star” Glamour Shot, my aunt tightly slicked back my hair to look exactly like Robert Palmer’s girls in his “Simply Irresistible” MTV music video. I even had bright red lips to match!

And in a final sort of magical touch, my aunt used her black eyeliner pencil to add an infamous Cindy Crawford mole above my lip.Brilliant!

I was model ready!

But wait. Something was missing.

Clothing!

What was I going to wear to complete my irresistible Rock Star Look? Answer: My aunt’s skirts!

Yes!

I wore her long skirts as strapless dresses.It felt like genius!

Now I could just imagine myself handing out MY Glamour Shots to all my friends at school.

“Here, would you like one of my Glamour Shots?”, I would say.

“Sure! Shelley, you look so pretty! Where did you get these taken? “, everyone at school would ask.

“Oh, you know, just someplace in Dallas. I can’t remember the name”, I would say very cool and nonchalant.

I was feeling deep in my bones that this was going to lead me straight down the privileged path into the “cool and pretty club”. I could hardly wait.

So, after about three hours in my aunt’s living room and at least 4 wardrobe changes and, like, a gazillion poses on top of her Zenith console TV, my Glamour Shots photo session was complete.It was time to take the roll of film down to the local drug store to get the pictures developed. (Yes, that’s what we had to do back then…get the film developed…back before we had instant digital photos and smart phone cameras).

My aunt would not pay the extra cost for “Same Day” developing, so I had to wait 3 whole days before I’d get to see the shots.

That was the longest 3 days of my life. All I could think about were those photos and what they were going to look like.

Well, the three days passed, and I was sitting on my aunt’s sofa watching “America’s Funniest Home Videos”. She came into the living room and plopped the package with my Glamour Shots in my lap.

I yelped. “Yay! They’re here!”

Quickly, I opened the photo envelope, and I rummaged through the photos. Very fast at first. I wanted to soak everything in all at once. I looked at all 36 photos. Then I started over. But this time, I examined each one with a fine-toothed comb. Out of the 36 photos developed, I deemed 15 shots to be Glamour worthy and started to put those pictures off to the side…

But wait!!!

No!!

What do I see?

This can’t be!

At first look, I’d only focused on ME.

Did I look good?

Did my hair look good?

Did I smile good?

But I’d completely failed to look at my surroundings. And now, like a disaster, here’s what I saw:

White bedsheet draped over OBVIOUS console TV

Stained white bedsheet thumb tacked behind OBVIOUS console TV

OBVIOUS miniblind windows behind thumb tacked bedsheet

It was awful! These weren’t Glamour Shots! This whole pack of photos was a homemade amateur show failure. I would NEVER in a million years hand these parodies of Glamour Shots to my worst enemy. If I did, I would become the laughingstock of my High School, for sure!

Sure, before I left, I thanked my aunt for the photos. But I “accidentally” left them at her house when it was time for me to leave. I wanted NOTHING to do with those photos OR Glamour Shots, for that matter, ever again…

It’s thirty years later now and that Glamour Shot summer is on my mind. Why?Because I’ve saved every one of those pictures that my aunt took. But now they are just a little bit harder for me to see. They’re looking blurry. That is, unless I put on my new five-dollar DRUGSTORE “READERS”. You know, the cheap glasses they sell. And now I need them to see clearly.

My old homemade Glamour Shots never made it to the level of “wallet-sized handouts”, but they are definitely at the top of my YOUTH list. Any time, I feel old, decrepit, tired, or ancient, I pull out those Shots and relish my YOUTH.

And yes, I know now that YOUTH is a funny creature.When I had it, I didn’t want it.YOUTH was like my little sister who was ALWAYS there.

Back then I wanted to be older, I wanted to be more mature. But now that I don’t have YOUTH, I CRAVE it. I covet the day when I was on top of my aunt’s sheet covered console ZENITH TV posing just like a Robert Palmer “Simply Irresistible” girl.

I want those days back. Hell, I desperately NEED those days now. Unfortunately, there are no time machines, and I don’t live inside “Back To The Future”.And yes, my eyes will never be quite as good again.

A squint here, a tilt or push forward of the head there. That’s how it started. Until I woke up one morning thinking I was going blind. My dark imagination went wild, thinking about Helen Keller. And now, me. I could see myself walking around town clinking a walking cane, having to learn Braille, and eventually dying.

I could feel my YOUTHFUL eyesight being stolen from me right before my eyes. And I wouldn’t SEE it happen because soon, I figured, I won’t see anything anymore.AGING is so unfair!

But what my eye doctor told me is even more unfair.

“Shelley, this is NORMAL for someone your age.”

Someone my age, my ASS! He must be kidding.

Was he actually saying that since I am AGING, I am no longer “allowed” to read a restaurant menu, computer screen, or anything that has small letters without wearing my fucking DRUGSTORE READERS?

Yep. That is correct.

My doctor calls it lucky, but I call it HUMILIATING!

He said I can go with the $5 drugstore readers because both of my eyes are the same “Badness”.

I told him I don’t want to have to put $5 molds of colored plastic over my face to survive life.

But I do.

And I guess this is what we all go through, isn’t it? When YOUTH is slowly ripped from us, we finally face the hard reality of AGING. We wear the $5 drugstore readers. Not because we want to, but because we HAVE to!

Not a day goes by now that I don’t thank my aunt for the Homemade Glamor Shots which have become my true tangible photo album of YOUTH. Every time AGING rips its claws into me, I get out my peach-colored photo album, sit cross legged on the floor, put on my $5 drugstore readers and smile with delight at my YOUTH. It might not always show, but my YOUTH will always be somewhere posing inside of me. Even though I have to put on my damn cheap $5 plastic reading glasses just to see.