Look at these people:

Adults, right?  If you can look past the Converse sneaks at least.

Last night Tony’s best friend Matt came over. (Side note: guys don’t refer to each other as bff, which is unfortunate, but for the sake of males everywhere, I’ll use the boring term best friend).  We started talking about back in the day when Tony had long hair, which compelled me to grab the old photo albums and look for the one photo I remember of Tony with his hair in a ponytail, running all the way down his back.  It elicited a laugh from the boys and, before you could blink, they were back to playing Halo and yelling obscenities at the TV because it was totally unfair that the blue ranger guy just killed their men even though it was clear they had the better gun.  Life.  So unfair.  Good thing violent video games that take place in abandoned space-age warehouses prepare us for it.

As they went back to playing, I sat on the floor in front of the bookshelf flipping through my old albums.

I’ve mentioned before that Tony and I started dating when we were just teenagers.  Wee bebes.  I could get really deep on you in this post and talk about all the changes we made as we grew up together and learned how to navigate this crazy thing called life.  But instead, I’m going to take the shallow route and discuss how freakin crazy it was to look back on our hilarious fashion choices.  Our hairstyles.  Oh god, the facial hair (Tony, not me.  Unless you count my unruly eyebrows – thanks a lot for telling me, family.  Really, thanks.)

We went through Tony’s long hair phases.  The days when he grew a great big Grandpa Garcia beard.  Even the summer he spent as a pool boy and you’d be hard-pressed to find him ever wearing a shirt…even when driving around town doing errands.

I wasn’t much better.  Please see comment on eyebrows above.  I had crazy long hair that reached my butt in college.  I went through a phase of never wearing shoes.  Or a bra.  One summer was spent living in patchwork clothes, and because my mad skills at the helm of a sewing machine were lacking, I often had uneven hems and weird patchwork placement.

Oh to be young again.  So please reference the photo above if you become overwhelmed in the youth of the below pictures.  It’ll help remind you we made it through.  Just barely.

This was our very first picture taken together.  It was Homecoming 1999.  Yeah, I said 1999.  And yeah, Tony is wearing his hair parted down the middle.  Along with half his dad’s wardrobe, although I’m quite partial to the loafers.  I may or may not also have a small crush on him for wearing pleated pants.

I’m not much better.  The face-framing hair tendrils will always be so 1990’s.  And I couldn’t disappoint when reppin’ my decade, woot woot!

But, oh, our teenage years get so much better.

This was the haircut heard ’round the world.  Thank God, because the middle hair part and I were not seeing eye to eye.

Speaking of hair…

Whoa nelly-cakes!  These days the curls look a little less Shirley Temple.  I’ve also mastered a much cuter pout for the camera.  And finally discovered tweezers.

Thank God college came.  And brought along a rebirth of Tony’s long hair and Katie’s love of all things patchwork.

Leave it to underage college kids to pose so proudly with their big bottle of cheap ass Admiral Nelson’s rum.  I’ve upgraded to Captains now.  It was an easy break up with the Admiral.

No need to adjust your computer screens.  That is not a rat tail.  Although…close.  But, no.  Not a rat tail.  Just Tony in his ponytail days.  He also apparently might have taken a hankering to wearing sideburns, although I don’t remember that so much.  The brain does funny things when trying to repress memories of unfortunate sideburns.

Let’s pretend for a moment that this photo isn’t weird enough, what with me force feeding a Tootsie Pop to a skeleton and all.  You don’t even want to know what happened to that skeleton as we made our way through the college years.  Let’s just say she ended up with lipstick, painted nails and was once attached to a giant blow-up Chilly Willy doll.  Binge drinking brings out creativity apparently.

But here I am.  Obviously no one thought to teach me the fine art of matching vs. clashing when it comes to pairing your everyday tie-dyes and patchwork.  Boy am I red in the face now.

I also went through the bell bottom phase.  Only a few decades too late.

Can you hear that?  It was my split ends screaming.  Begging for a haircut.

This was taken on New Year’s Day, although I’m not sure which year.  All I know is we were ringing in the year as the Year of Facial Hair.  And Tony didn’t disappoint.

Looking back, it was probably not the best look for him.  There are better ways to wear a beard.  Ways that won’t make you appear to be channeling Charles Manson.

After the last year in college, the pictures start looking a little better.  I cut my hair to a more reasonable length.  I fell in love with stilettos.  Tony also cut his hair and started a job working for the man.  Like I said above.  We’re adults, or at least we’ve mastered looking like them.  Well…sometimes.

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