White Trash or Fabulously Trashy?

White trash can be fabulously trashy.Β  It’s all in one’s perspective.

I picked up all kinds of trashy tips from my youth – like wrapping a can of pop (soda, Coke, whatever area of the world you live in insert word here) in aluminum foil is a poor gal’s koozie (my mom would do this to chill my beverage for field trips), keeping a wet wash cloth in a plastic baggie is just the same (and much cheaper) than a wet wipe (again, my clever mother), and ketchup between two slices of bread will make you feel like a chef (my genius shining through).

Ketchup sandwich for one, please.

Ketchup sandwich for one, please.

Any of these tips ring a bell to you? If not, you’re a classy person – in my book anyway.

To me, being white trash is knowing better (eating the piece of cheese after removing the moldy corner, blaming the broken basketball hoop on me, your cousin when I saw you break it with my own two eyes, proudly announcing that your entire family’s favorite movie is National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation (hence the trashy category Grizzies on this blog), digging the bag of chips out of the garbage because you want to be sure you ate them all or wearing the mini skirt with the heels that are just a tad too high) but doing it anyway, while not giving a rat’s ass what anyone thinks.

A mini minus the heels.

An early mini minus the heels.

I grew up in a rural Iowa town where it was a big deal if Dad decided to get a Casey’s gas station pizza on Friday night, a small hog (yes hog, not dog) house served as my backyard playhouse where mud pies were served abundantly and you were never short a friend or cousin to play alongside (and Mom could care whether her child was mistaken for smoking a cigarette – OK, she might of cared but still).

Smoking deck for my cousin and me.

Good old candy cigarettes on the smoking deck after a long day of play for my cousin and me.

I was also raised in a world where it was perfectly acceptable (in my family, anyway) to come home from the pool for lunch, play a round of baseball with Dad in the yard (not opting for a wardrobe change – sticking with the classy bathing suit), then head back to swim the rest of the day away.

Quick round of batting practice while home from the pool

Quick round of batting practice while home from the pool.

Being in a small town, we made our own fun. If there were no toys around or activities for a kid to do, my parents entertained me with a brown grocery bag, which I obviously enjoyed with enthusiasm.

No toys? No problem. A paper bag will do the trick.

No toys? No problem.

Preschool graduation days were also classily creative due to my mother’s knack of using paper and plastic bowl in lieu of a real hat.

Graduation day at its finest.

Graduation day at its finest.

Oh the tricks of the trade we acquire while growing up.

White trash? Or fabulously trashy?

Fabulous in my book.



60 thoughts on “White Trash or Fabulously Trashy?

  1. Meghan says:

    This made me LOL so hard at work. You’re awesome

  2. heysugarsugar says:

    Lmfao….awesome post and guess what? We Welsh fabulously trashy gals, might be an ocean away but yeah my mama put the washcloth in the plastic bag ( but if she was near me, she was uber trashy and spat on her handkerchief and rubbed dirt off me!) I had those candy ciggies and yeah the ketchup in the bread…Infact this post made me realize, we fabulously trashy girls have great memories πŸ™‚ Ceri x

    • Ha! Happy to hear that fabulously trashy girls are not just products of the lovely state of Iowa and span across the ocean! My mom did the spit on her finger and rub whatever was on my face off…and our memories are priceless, aren’t they?!

  3. Phil Lanoue says:

    Ab Fab my dear! Loved the memories.
    You and your cousin sitting there with candy cigs and those attitudes look like you are both in an episode of The Sopranos.
    “What are you lookin’ at?! You got a problem? No, Well you got one now!”
    And is that an orange kitty in front of the Radio Flyer?!

    • It is indeed an orange kitty – his name was Ernie. Ted is already in so much distress with moving, I had to hide that pic from him before posting! And small town kids can cop big Soprano attitude because nobody messes with us (especially while puffing on candy cigs). And that’s because there was no one to mess with us! πŸ™‚

  4. Enchanted Seashells, Confessions of a Tugboat Captain's Wife says:

    Your dad’s got some nice legs, gurrl! I’m just as trashy as you, still put the washcloth in a plastic bag LOL!

    • My dad’s head grows almost as big as Teddy’s everytime he gets a compliment, so I will thank you on his behalf! And as for the washcloth….SO DO I – surprised?!

      • Enchanted Seashells, Confessions of a Tugboat Captain's Wife says:

        Nope, just can’t wait til you can swing by Casa de Enchanted Seashells!

  5. LifeOfBun says:

    Those outfiiits, love the red shorts hehe. True vintage. πŸ˜€ And fabulous for sure lol!

  6. amberafrica says:

    Precious post πŸ™‚

  7. Tracy says:

    No way trashy – to me this was the way to live! I think the problem these days is kids have no idea what it is like to get outside and play and have REAL fun! X-Box, computers, iPhones, iPads have taken over. I am grateful I lived in the olden days when playing matchbox cars (I called them Dinkies) outside and making your own roads in the grass was FUN!!

    • Dinkies! What a cute name for matchbox cars! Looking back, playing outside was so much fun – and being in such a small town, my mom could say, “be home by dark,” with no worries. Oh the good old days!

  8. elkeeb says:

    I’ll take one preschool graduation dress in adult size please!

  9. Haha!!! Memories right, Love the pictures and mini you is sure a lil’ cutey. Nice post.

    • Thanks Girl! Just thinking about why I turned out to be such a classy lady had me digging in old memories and photos. And as for being cute, I used to be mistaken as a boy – although I think it had something to do with that short haircut I was rockin’. But I’ll take the compliment anyway!

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