For those who figured out my photo was the bottom right corner, you were right.
I think I was in grade ten. My friends and I decided to travel by bus to Toronto (we lived in a ‘burb on the outskirts) to participate in a peace march. It was actually an anti-bomb march. My parents were appalled. As former residents of a communist country they were convinced that anti-nuclear demonstrations were organized by communist groups who were planning on taking over Canada. And that I was going to make it happen by standing around yelling: HEY HEY, HO HO, THAT NUCLEAR STUFF HAS GOT TO GO, HEY HEY HO HO!
But I didn’t share their opinion on the matter and went anyway. We might have even skipped school to do it. The button pictured here is something I bought that day. And for some reason it’s followed me around thus far. Appearing in drawers and in odd boxes.
As teenagers running around a big city we rejoiced in our freedom. The sights! The people! The food! The shopping! During those years I was very fond of Queen St. and rummaging around Kensington Market. I remember buying second-hand Levis before it was cool to do so. Few people understood the benefits of wearing pants that were already worn in all the right places. I also loved exploring military surplus stores: the jackets, the boots, old patches and canteens. It was heavenly.
The day of the peace march we were all palpitating from the thrill of the big city. Someone had a brainstorm, hey – let’s get our hair cut! There was a place called House of Lords right on Yonge St. I’m not sure if it’s changed, but it was a pretty punky place at the time. My friend Martine and I went for a cut while the others waited. The two of us were separated, so I had no idea what they were doing to her. We were out of consulting range.
I sat in my chair. I wanted something different. And so they gave it to me. I don’t remember much about it except for that first snip. The hair on the right side of my head was cut right next to my head. The view from the back was a big slope, gradually lengthening as it reached the left side of my head. Trust me when I say I was the ONLY ONE in my highschool to have a haircut like that.
I liked it. I think. But it was a real b!tch to grow out. My friend, on the other hand, emerged looking like early Bon Jovi. I think I got the better deal.
