This is me at age 5. My issues started with this head-to-toe denim atrocity with embroidered rose and cheap metal buttons. Don’t be fooled those aren’t cool Converse, but some hand me down, no doubt. But boy I had moxie. Hands on my hips, gritting my teeth while a 45 MPH wind zipped through my pale hair. Screw you wind! I will remain standing on this shitty hill for a photo op. Oh if only The Fashion Protective Services were an actual enterprise. I would have been snatched up in minutes only to be restyled appropriately and given back to my mom with reprimand.