Go, Amy, Go!

1977 - Kindergarten - Eden Park elementary, Cranston, RI

I have never met another woman my age who will admit to being a Raggedy Ann and Andy fan, but believe me; my nursery school was a hotbed of Raggedy activity. We used to argue over who would get to be Marcella, the child who owns the toys, because if you were Marcella you could boss everyone else around. I remember going to see the animated film in 1977, which was the same year I started Kindergarten, so it makes sense that I would choose this.

It had a matching thermos, which I can still smell. One day we all had to dump out our thermoses and a letter went home telling parents not to put milk in the lunchboxes. I mean, we didn’t refrigerate them or use ice packs or anything. So I guess somebody’s milk went off. I remember being upset about it, but not exactly why.

I do remember liking the texture of the plastic on the outside and scraping my fingernails against it.

1978 - First Grade - Eden Park elementary, Cranston, RI

My Dad took me to see Star Wars Ep. IV at the drive-in the summer after it came out in theaters, which would have been in 1977. I positively ADORED it. I am positive I had this in 1st grade because I have vivid memories of being teased by the boys in my class for having a “boy’s lunchbox.” I don’t remember the thermos, but it’s entirely possible it got gross enough that my Mom tossed it and I just bought milk for an unbeatable $.05. Every morning you would trade your nickel for a milk token which you would hopefully manage to keep on your person until lunch. I think I had a little purse because Heaven forbid little girls have pockets!

Anyway, have a milk token.

1979 - Second Grade - Eden Park Elementary, Cranston, RI

There’s a hole in my brain where second grade should be, probably because it’s the year I started getting stomachaches and forgetting my homework. So I think this was my lunchbox. So much less cooler than Star Wars! Maybe after living through 1st grade I started to identify with faceless little girls more than kick-ass princesses. I remember there being a LOT of prairie-adjacent stuff around back then.

1980- Third Grade - Eden Park Elementary, Cranston, RI

Oh no, it turns out that there’s an even bigger hole where third grade should go! Was that the year I spent a lot of time with the school psychologist? Who was my teacher? What did I wear for Halloween? All I really remember was that my friend Lynn punched me in the belly and I had to forgive her because her parents were getting divorced. Since I don’t have a lunchbox pic here’s a photo of an outfit for the fashion-forward 8 year old of 1980.

1981 - Fourth Grade - E.S. Rhodes Elementary, Cranston, RI

I remember fourth grade very well because I was deemed “gifted” and got to ride the mini bus to a new school. I have no idea why I chose this lunchbox. I don’t remember reading Ziggy or liking orange. What’s important is that this box was the vessel for my daily tomato and mayonnaise sandwich, chosen because that’s what Harriet the Spy ate. It’s also important to remember that there were giant cracks for girls with ADHD and autism to fall through.

1982 - Fifth Grade - Edgewood Highland Elementary, Cranston, RI

The Annie movie came out in the spring of fourth grade. I was obsessed with it. By the time 5th grade rolled around I had seen it approximately 300 times on HBO, read the book, memorized the songs and forced my younger sister into singing competitions where we would audition for an imaginary sequel. Did I have a little baby crush on Ann Reinking? Yes! But the only way to express it was to buy this lunchbox. It’s possible my parents tried to dissuade me. All I know is that I hopped off the bus on the first day of school and realized that I was the only 5th grader with a lunchbox. I stuck to my guns, though, and carried it every day. This was the year I learned that you should stand up to bullies but that you should also not give bullies any ammunition, like this lunchbox.

I also learned that if you just couldn’t remember your homework then the guidance counselor could make you wear an embarrassingly large steno pad on a ribbon around your neck!I was able to find a notebook from the same series, but not a steno pad. It was definitely textured like this.

1983 - Sixth Grade - Ponaganset Middle School, Glocester, RI

We moved! I had the chance to start all over again and leave the Annie lunchbox days behind. I started carrying a brown nylon lunch bag with a Velcro closure, which was inoffensive. But it’s like that lunchbox stench stuck to me and followed me around. I remained a conundrum for teachers and a target for other students. I wore the right clothes, listened to the right music and sucked up to all the right kids. But they saw through me. I was just too weird.

You have to admit, people like this look. Something about the doubled-up granny hose and the sparkly crotch just does it for a lot of people. But I really wouldn’t want to upstage the wedding party, which I most certainly would if I attempted to stuff myself into this glamorous sausage casing.

This looks super comfortable and I think it comes in your theme colors but I am sensitive to the the objections of the older guests who might be troubled by this ensemble. Is your internet-ordained celebrant also an exorcist?

This festive fabric is popping with with colorful birds. You like birds, don’t you? Oh, sure, I get it. Psychedelics aren’t on the menu. Moving on.

Ok, I can see that this is inappropriate for a beach wedding. Still, I may pick up some horns to slip on when you aren’t paying attention. (Which should be always, seeing as it’s your wedding day and you have enough to worry about!)

Did you know that I once played a ringmaster in a school musical? My costume was nowhere near as exciting as this one, although I did have a large hat. So you can understand why I am drawn to it. Still, as far as I know we are not going to be having a Hug Jackman sing-along, so I’ll skip it.

If only you were getting married on a farm! This one is made out out honest-to-goodness flour sacks and cast-off overalls, but maybe it’s a bit immodest.

This, on the other hand, is Duggar-esque. Having lived through a half century of August birthdays I can tell you that this would render the wearer miserable in about 5 minutes. Waaay too much fabric.

This is the dress I most wish I could wear, although I promise I won’t. I just know how much I would enjoy drifting through the ballroom like the vengeful ghost of a Victorian governess. Alas.

As a final gift to you, let me suggest that if you are really adamant that I match the other two mothers you should consider this new take on twinsies, er, tripletsies. I call dibs on green!

And so, my beloved children, I hope I have shown you that I can be trusted to pick out my own appropriate wedding attire. Now you can stop thinking about it and turn your attention to the little shells you are going to scatter on the tables.

Much love,