My family has a thing with photos. We carry a camera with us at all times and we are not ashamed of striking a pose in the middle of a crowded room for the sake of preserving trivial memories. My mother’s house is proof of it. There’re hundreds of photos of everyday moments. Although there are many of those I would like to burn, the family motto prevents me from it. Memories are memories and cannot be destroyed. Regardless of how hideous you think you look. Every time I look though them I laugh and wonder what in the world was I think and how come no body stopped me.
I especially dislike the “professional” photos my mother had taken of me at walmart when I turned fifteen. My mom on the other hand seems to love it. She actually still has an 8×10 of it hanging on her wall for all of her guest to point at and laugh. Hairy eyebrows and all.
Fortunately for my younger sister walmart was out of the question. I asked her to model for me and of course it didn’t take much arm twisting to get her to agree. So here are her photos to celebrate trivial moment and never forgetting what sixteens feels like.