My grandpa Harry is lovely, and as a child he and my grandmother Birgit were my best friends.
I remember them being a bit disappointed with me when I presented my new look at the age of 12.
For their generation it was synonymous with drug addicts and angry kids and they we're afraid I was going bad. They didn't treat me different though.
But I proved them wrong and they stopped to worry about my looks and realized I still was the same.
But I know they both liked my little un-maked face the way it was and missed to see that every once in a while.
My grandpa always said it was a phase... every year until I was 35 I think. Then he gave me a hug and a serious look as he told me he realized it probably isn't. How cute!
Last time I meet him he was even cuter.
It's so sweet how he spends time thinking about this!
He said that he thought about it a lot and came to the conclusion that I am this times "swing-pjatt" as he was. He was the Goth if the 30-40's he said.
He told me he was super extreme in his teen/twenties in that era according to what his elderly thought at the time.
The "swing-pjatt" had pants as wide so it hide the feet, preferably in Tweed pattern. I'll ask him more about this at dinner tonight.
Well, drifting from the subject a bit; because I wanna make him happy I will print out the picture above so he's got a picture of the Ann-Sophie that lives in a parallel universe. The Ann-Sophie I could have been if not my inner self had another view of beautiful.