I was an emo, though I’ll also admit that I was more like a closet-emo because leaping headlong into that fashion aesthetic felt like too much for me. I was in ~the scene and all, and I loved the music, but I didn’t have the wild and crazy hair, and my fashion sense was way toned down/cobbled together from thrift stores. (Frankly, to this day I feel like my fashion sense was more “true emo” than the mallrat emo stuff.)
However, I teach high school now, and one of my students just recently looked at an older picture of me (not from when I was in high school myself, but from like ten years ago, roughly when I first started teaching) and she fucking clocked me in about ten seconds: “You were emo in high school, weren’t you? I can tell from these bangs.”
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I was an emo, though I’ll also admit that I was more like a closet-emo because leaping headlong into that fashion aesthetic felt like too much for me. I was in ~the scene and all, and I loved the music, but I didn’t have the wild and crazy hair, and my fashion sense was way toned down/cobbled together from thrift stores. (Frankly, to this day I feel like my fashion sense was more “true emo” than the mallrat emo stuff.)
However, I teach high school now, and one of my students just recently looked at an older picture of me (not from when I was in high school myself, but from like ten years ago, roughly when I first started teaching) and she fucking clocked me in about ten seconds: “You were emo in high school, weren’t you? I can tell from these bangs.”
I kind of love it, actually.