Growing up, we vacationed on Hilton Head Island, South Carolina. One of our visits happened to be the summer after my sophomore year in high school, shortly after I became No Longer Ugly, shortly after I realized there just might be hope for my ridiculous redheaded appearance. My braces were gone, my teeth were slick, my curves were coming out of the woodworks, and I did three hours of ballet, five days a week. I had also become quite boy crazy by then, and was well aware that Hilton Head was swarming with them.

So when we arrived in Hilton Head that summer, I was feeling good. It was 1985, and I had used up all my pre-paid tanning sessions back home at The Golden You to ensure that my fair skin was no longer fair. I also had spent a week dousing my hair with Sun-In to ensure that my auburn shade was no longer auburn. I was a tan, toned, strawberry-blonde, sixteen-year-old hottie, pure and simple. The rest of the world just didn’t know it yet. (read more @ Confessions of a Pioneer Woman)

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