When I was a kid, our elementary school was Kindergarten through sixth grade, middle school was seventh and eighth grades (any longer there and I would have run away from home and joined the circus), and high school was ninth through twelfth.
This is June, 1984, the night of my sixth grade dance. I was eleven. No filter, just old-filter. (Before Instagram, I used to care enough about my old photos to whiten the whites and darken the darks and get rid of yellow overtones. Now? Screw it.)

Observations:
1) I wore my hair the same way on my (first) wedding day. I joke a lot that with only a few short-lived exceptions, I’ve worn the same three hairstyles forever. This is further proof.
2) I think this was my first go with grown-up pantyhose.
3) I remember nothing from the dance.
4) Sweet merciful crap! I think the figurine on the lamp is naked!
🙂