At first, I am horrified by my black and white blue jeans. Simply. Horrified. What in God's name was I thinking? Can I blame them entirely on the 80's? But then I see that I am feeding Tippy Jr., my niece, next to my brother, Mark, whose next to the incomparable, Leokadia. Our mother. Now I like those jeans. I like my pouffy hair, and gigantic glasses. Context indeed is everything.
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