If you heard this dude’s name in an episode of The Simpsons, you’d be like, “Naw, too unrealistic…” One of the all-time greats. Seriously.
And peep the cut of his jib. Let’s put it this way: Dr. Huxtable called and he wants his sweater back. Now I admittedly guessed as to the colorings, but I wager I’m not far off the mark here. And he complements it with the trademark look of the late 80s/early 90s – a turtleneck. Choice!
Geek, nerd, poindexter, spazz, dork – you choose the pejorative. Just remember he’s (likely) more successful, handsome and happier than yours truly…
For the record, the other all-time great names from hi skool I can recall (not counting collegiate or pro athletes) are: Marty Donkervoot (some pundit I read about during the whole Marc Lépine Montreal massacre) and Phillip Rintaro (the name on my li’l cousin’s fake ID)…
On Tak Wong
Dag – good thing I finally found this guy’s yearbook picture! I don’t think calling him “Random Asian Dude” would’ve been fair – especially since he’s rocking some vintage late-80s stylings: namely a rugby sweater and a Dep-gelled classic Asian haircut.
Combine that with a wispy mustache and you’ve got at least one comprehensive look at the Asian pre-21st-century hi skool experience. Luckily, my own wispy mustache didn’t take full E-F-F-E-C-T until my late 20s. And no rugby jerseys since I played that oft-confusing sport…
Just to show that it wasn’t all fobby hair and ethnics, here’s a standout white chick I can recall from backintheday within the same infamous yearbook page what spanned the previous five or six drawings…
Even her name is crazily white, cuz when you look at the letters that spell her surname, it doesn’t look like it should add up to a pronunciation like “Mick-Eck-earn”, nawimean?
She’s rocking the whole preppy thing, which needless to stay, was going strong in the mid-to-late-80s. And fyi those are freckles, not blemishes. Bitches this classy don’t get pimples! Sheesh…
Speaking of fobby hair, heeeeere’s Davey! Dude was on the cover of the Scarborough Recreation & Parks Calendar/Schedule thingy backintheday (mid 80s?) playing basketball. Dunno if he had game or not, though…
We went to grade skool together, too. Remember those “Choose Your Own Adventure” books? We wrote one together in grade 5 called Commando Squad. If you don’t know, the structure of the books was a li’l bit of story, and then a choice: if you pick option A), turn to page 6. Option B), page 12. And so on and so forth.
Except in Commando Squad, if you didn’t pick the “right” option, you ended up dying in one of many ninja-y/G.I. Joe-esque ways. So really, there was only one adventure to choose from – assuming you actually wanted to read that piece of trash. FYI, the look was heavily influenced by Ultimatum of mid-90s Captain America comics “fame”.
I always thought ol’ Davey looked kinda extra childish and cute here, like an animé chipmunk or something…
I dunno this chick personally, but she got around a lot like 2Pac in ‘92. Nothing lascivious here – I just mean she was in assemblies and hallways and yearbooks and shit an awful lot. And it weren’t cuz she was some sports superstar or prom queen (we never had a prom king or queen – did we?)…
This semi-dykey-lookin’ ‘do wasn’t uncommon amongst chicks Asian and otherwise backintheday – another reason why this page keeps yielding some sweet portraits. And I honestly think I’m doing her mad justice here. Trust me.
We used to call this dude “Stevie B.” cuz he looks pretty much exactly like the freestyle legend. Or kinda. I always imagined him to be the kingpin of the ESL students. After all, he had that flowing mane and a fellow ESL Eastern-European chick (I’m guessing) for a girlfriend and everything. I think he even had one of those first white-brick cellphones when the only provider wuz Cantel. And maybe now I’m speculating/str8t-up exaggerating, but he may have even drove an IROC-Z (pronounced “zed” up here in Canader)…
Legendary shit, in other words. Even his real name sounds kinda cool. None of this is meant ironically, btw… Being the don of ESL is prob’ly way better than being the average hi skool nobody. Maybe one of these days we’ll hear his perspective. After all, that’s whut Facebook’s for….
This dude wuz a jock supreme. Lookit him – he just looks kinda primal, nawimean? Like Conan the Barbarian, or something – Neanderthal in his sheer physical intensity. I’m extrapolating here, to be sure, but not by much. Seriously. And I don’t mean any of this shit in an insulting way.
I’m sure he wuz a running back on the football team. He even played rugby – which is whut the peeps who were too un-jock-like to play football played. I can say that cuz I wuz one of ‘em. The coach hadda tell him you couldn’t just straight-arm guys on some Heisman-pose shit, like in football. Otherwise, I’m sure he woulda scored try after try.
There wuz talk he wuz on ’roids or something, and who rilly knows – but that sounds like sour grapes or some b.s. hi skool gossip to me. He wuz just this compact, dense mass of power ploughing through defenders in all sports.
I also heard he wuz being recruited by some Div 1 schools in the states, but again, who rilly knows? I prefer not to. The mere possibility is more charming and mysterious than outright truth or fact.
I figured, why not start off White Guy Week in style? In case you’re wondering, I figgered I should do something for the Caucasian brothers, since their only representation thus far has been ol’ Globuloso – not exactly your typical white guy.
To compensate for the lack of modern white pop music at corporate functions, my DJ homeboy placates ’em with rawk. My compensation? A week of drawing white dudes only.
At first I wuz gonna do an all-mullet week – cuz make no mistake, you ain’t gotta go but a couple pages in my yearbook before you come across one. But despite their prevalence, there wuz way more to being white and male in hi skool than hockey hair – I promise.
But for now, there’s this dude. I dunno jack about him, but I remember seeing duke in skool at least. The hair and Kelly Gruber-like neck thickness has me thinking jock, though – probably football and hockey. I could totes fact-check, but won’t. It’s better to just let those assumptions marinate. Veracity isn’t the point here, anyway.
Taking a peek at his previous year’s picture, dude rocked this haircut then, too. So the shit had longevity. I also seem to recall his skin being slightly more pasty, but who rilly knows?
Another in the series of incredibly fly chicks from hi skool. Well, maybe just the second – but I ain’t done did this long. Apparently, she married her hi skool sweetheart – the kinda alpha male alterno-guy back then. There wuz a generation of Ctrl-Alt-Del guys a couple years older than us that I wouldn’t say we looked up to – more like they were just ahead of us in a path we were forging ourselves.
That meant British bands and a Macunian/grungish fashion sense (while I suppose we actually went to more of a Check-your-Head-era Beasties for style). Thinking about it, it’s funny how this (relatively) small place in England (Manchester) wuz responsible for so much of our hi skool identities. It’s like it wuzn’t even real, looming in our imaginations as some unbelievably cool, fashionable and fun oasis (pun intentional, I guess). I’ve never been – but could any city reasonably live up to the expectations of a teenage psyche? Or the fully-grown one formed over that teenager’s?
Similar but different is when you visit New York and see and hear all the places you only heard about in rap songs. It’s one thing to hear Buckshot Shorty talkin’ about “…F.A.P. – Franklin Avenue Posse…” – and another to walk along Franklin Avenue listening to it. From Linden Boulevard to Bushwick Ave. to Brentwood, Long Island, rap is littered with references to all the five boroughs. I know, crazy digression. C’est la vie…
Kristen B., V2
The previous one wuz a li’l more realistic; this one’s a li’l more cartoony. I guess the truth lies somewhere in-between (actually, she prob’ly looks/looked more like the realistic one, but you nawimean)…
Though it would seem from the number of drawings here and my ranting and raving about her flyness that I had a big-time crush on her or summat, that’s actually not the case. Pragmatist that I am/wuz, I kept my hi skool crushes to the somewhat attainable instead (unrequited or otherwise). I mean, rilly, having a crush on her would’ve been like having a crush on god, nawimean?
To paraphrase Harvey Keitel in “Mean Streets”, you just don’t fuck with the infinite. And if she hasn’t remained infinitely beautiful, well, now we’ve got these drawings for posterity’s sake to imagine that she did.