The evidence was in before I was out.

Inspired by KitKat’s series of “unfortunate childhood photos” I decided to have a look at some old pictures to see if I could find any equally hideous shots that would inspire a blog entry. Naturally, as I was the subject of said photos, there were none to be found; just a cute little blond angel gazing into the lens, the borders barely able to contain the halo surrounding my head.

I did however notice a pattern. Several of the shots revealed a rather flamboyant little boy who even I would have pegged as, shall we say, a little light in the loafers. I can now look back and giggle at how obviously all signs pointed to pink but do wish I had recognized it sooner. All in good time though.

I present to you now, in chronological order, the evidence.

Photo 1: That is my brother, sister and I dressed for Halloween one year. I am the one on the left. Goldilocks meets the pilgrims. That’s right, Goldilocks. My brother a soldier and my sister, well, not really sure what she is. Girl in a kitten t-shirt with fashionable (for their day) boots? It seems we were all imprinted by that magical night. My brother has an interest in the history of war, my sister has two cats that she wants to have a ‘family portrait’ done with and I like to dress up as a lady on Halloween.

Photo 2: First day of kindergarten. Look at my wrist! Karen loved the camera and is obviously disinterested in either of her male suitors, but Dave McDonald and I only had eyes for each other apparently. My wrist is limp and I look like I am sucking my teeth saying “wasn’t Mrs. McCurtey’s class fabulous?” but he has a bunny pinned to his jacket! And those stunning trousers! Maybe there was something in the water on Shadylawn?

Photo 3: What young boy didn’t love helping his mother in the kitchen? Even if it was an outdoor camping kitchen. Socks with sandals aside, I am wearing a stylish shirt and cute as a button shorts. And snaps to my mother for her rolled up jeans and cat eye glasses. Not only do I get my keen fashion sense from the woman, but also my love of cooking and selecting ‘paper’ from the “will that be paper or plastic?” question. Look on the bench! What environmentalists my parents are.

Photo 4: Finally, and most damning, the fur coat. My dad was the executor of an estate for a ‘female friend’ of Grandpa Percy. In the attic was this fur coat that I felt was the absolute height of luxury. It was beaver (not the icky kind, the nice kind you can make a coat out of) and weighed a ton. As you can see, I managed to secure that little item for myself and used it at Halloween or whenever else I needed a little glamour pick-me-up. Luckily I outgrew the coat and it is now in a museum in Fergus. Yes dears, it was that old. But look how happy it made me! And the pose. What style, what grace.

So there you have it. Markers along life’s road that headed straight (pun intended) to gay town, right next to Ricky Martinville and only a stones throw from Antonio Sabato Juniorland. I hope you enjoyed sharing these memories, I sure did.