My mom recently retired and has begun cleaning out old craft drawers, toy boxes, and cupboards. Each time she cleans a room, she unearths treasures from my childhood, frozen in time for decades. Last week she brought me this:
A word of explanation – my mom was a doctor, so most of my childhood drawings are on pads of paper provided by pharmaceutical reps. I had plush livers and heart stress balls, pencils that advertised medicines and collages made from images cut from medical journals. And all of my books had 50 order forms in the front in case the moms in the waiting room wanted to buy the books for their children, too.
Apparently Inderal LA is a blood pressure medication, but to my eight year old eye, this was simply a sketch pad. And much like my thirty-four year old self, some of my favorite thoughts apparently involved Disney.
Long before I fell in love with Disney Dooney & Burke bags, I thought that Disney crop tops were the way to go. What outfit from 1986 is complete without three oversized bangles and a giant Minnie Mouse bow?
I don’t remember drawing this Disney outfit creation, but it doesn’t surprise me in the least when I look at pictures of my family today. While I know better than to wear a “half top,” I do understand the power of the mouse in fashion.