Kelvyn Park High School - Kelvynian Yearbook (Chicago, IL)

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29 ,ga Oo 44. f ii KELVYN '30 'I 419' X DANCES BASKE NP nie, 1 fqw I 6' 2 4- 6' fe

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THE FUTU-FIIIISH Now that all of you have viewed these finished fotos -yes, these shin- ing faces that you'll be proud to recognize in the future . . . with smiles and profiles just right . . . in the best of best . . . not a curl or eyebrow out of place-how would you like to have a glimpse of how we suffered and finally survived the worries, the heartaches, and the agonies of picture taking? When you've finished clearing up a few necessary preliminaries fexam- ple: 4Oc to division representativel, you settle down to wait. Finally, one bright day as you stand in line in the crowded lunchroom, being pushed from side to side and at the same time trying to balance a heavy tray, a yellow slip is thrust into your hand. Now you have an appointment with the pho- tographer! l! ' Nothing but gossip and chatter about price, size, amount, etc., etc., can be heard from now onin every corner of Kelvyn Park, in the division room, lunchroom, washroom, history class, and even in the middle of an important waist slimming exercise in the gym. Everybody, from the popular, best dressed, most attractive girl in school to plain Suzy in her simple school girl frock and quiet manners, enters into long and serious discussions about proper clothing, coloring, hair styles, poses, etc. At home you hear many suggestions from every member of the family, from older sister who recently acquired a glamour shot that now rests on the top of the piano, to your little kid brother who is willing to offer the best advice from memories of his first in the nude photo when he was two months old. A side view is best, hair must be simple, wear that: a smile like this will surely erase the circles around your eyes which tell the story of nights spent burning midnight oil from the stacks of homework. Even grandma adds her tintype view when many years ago she too watched the birdie. Then comes the night before the important event. Talk about panic, nothing can compare to what goes on now. Hours are spent in a muddle of preparing, parading, and posing in front of a mirror. A slight armistice comes when sleep overtakes you, but that doesn't mean you're free from nightmares. The next step is to brave the trip, all alone, through the hustle and bustle of downtown. With face scrubbed too clean and in Sunday best you feel the heat rush to your face. Must everyone stare at you? You hope that no one recognizes you. After glancing again at the address, you become bewildered, wondering if you'll ever find this place. You're lost! You hunt for a policeman, but as you turn around there is the building staring you directly in the face. With added courage after a ten minute search for the elevator, you ascend into the stratosphere to be deposited in front of the photographers office. Here tucked away under a glass canopy especially constructed for sub- dued light is where this Mighty Monarch . . . The Photographer . . . holds forth. Looking down upon you are the hundreds of handsome faces in the pic- tures on the walls, which give you a sudden embarrassed and inferior feeling. Finally HE enters and HIS commanding voice directs you to a room marked Caps and Gowns. You try many on for each one makes you look worse than the last, although you know they are all the same. Then suddenly you find an intelligent looking person staring at you in the mirror. It's funny what this outfit will do to you. At last you are in front of the camera . . . only to be handled by this commanding individual as if you were a dummy ina store window. Too much make-up . . . take it off, put your chin up, sit more to the right, shoulders back, right there, light so, now steady. Tired with these commands you find a chance to relax, without, however, losing the same silly grin. Hold that, thunders HIS voice and you snap back into position. Then . . . Click! Coupon please? Kelvyn Park High, oh yes, fine school!! Must be a fine student. You stand up . . . flushed . . . excited . . . weak in the knees . . . but relieved . . . it's all over. And the results? Well you've just seen them!! Claire Fecura

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Hlllll IT HLL BEGHII You were only about fourteen then. The braces on your teeth hadn't yet reached the invisible thin wire stage. You were in the class labeled ado- lescentf' Your hair hung every which way-you hadn't learned yet that just a permanent wave and a daily combing and no nightly curling didn't mix with impeccable coiffures. It was still your pre-French days, so you didn't even know what a coiffure was. Addicted to the latest in slang, impeccable was way beyond you. Oh, it was a long time ago--way back in the thirties. You were just a freshie at Kelvyn. Lipstick was gazed at in awe but not applied. Since you'd become a high school student, you wore silk stockings regularly. Imagine! You even came to school looking neat! fNow the sloppier the bet- ter.l And then one Saturday afternoon when you were wandering about the house pondering over whether you wanted to cook taffy or maple nut fudge delight that night, the telephone rang and you answered. And ROMANCE came into your life. You immediately recognized Iimmy's voice. F - jimmy was the kid next door. You still have the scar S on your forehead where he knocked you over the head with a stovepipe in a playful moment. He still has the scar on .xggi -Q, , his forehead where you knocked him right back with the ' same stovepipe one playful moment later. He was fortu- nate in having hair which always hung down into his eyes and completely obscured his reminder of you. You hadn't adopted that curlbanq yet, so yours was visible upon close scrutiny. Boy, you'd squabbled, thrown snowballs, played baseball lwhen he'd let youl, gone to Sunday school, and done well nigh everything else together all your life. Now jimmy was five feet six and growing every day. There was a slight suggestion of a dark shadow along his cheek and upper lip and his voice squeaked to rival the mice. When from his lofty sophomore pedestal he deigned to talk to you in school or when he met you on the street, he was really doing you a big favor. You felt like heaving another stovepipe. With all the wisdom of his fifteen years he would invariably make some wisecrack about fourteen year old emigrees from grammar school which exasperated you beyond measure. My dear, he and his friends were the most nauseating creatures. And here was jimmy on the telephone. Lo, Marge? Yup, lim? Yup. Busy tonight? Complete amazement, followed by a very quick recovery. Then coyly lyou haven't bee-n studying your big sister's technique all these years for nothingl, Let me see. I don't think so. I-lm-! No, not busy! How'd ya like to go to the show with me? My dad got some free passes for the Bijou. Gene Autry's playing! l'd love to. What time? 'Bout seven. Bye. With what meticulous care you dressed. Not even when you attended that formal at the Drake last month 30