I'm in someone's car -- not mine. At that time I owned a 1951 straight-eight Pontiac (gray) with a gray cloth interior and I had those plastic Fingerhut seat covers on the seats. So, I really don't know whose car this is, nor do I recall where we're going.
First, notice the lovely glasses and frames. What goes around comes around. Those frames would be right in style today.
Note the pimples on the chin. That was a problem I had well after I was 21 when pimples are supposed to stop popping out (and getting popped to get rid of -- gross). I still get bimples (yes, small pimples are bimples) on my chin from time to time, and I'll never see 21 again, that's for sure.
The leather coat was brown and it wore and it wore and it wore. One of my girls may still have that coat in their closet.
My hair has obviously been straighted (Yeah, Curl Free!), but as you can see it's still curly. Just not Betty Boop curly. (I added that exclamation point just to annoy my friend Stacia.)
The car had no push button windows. It has 4-60 air conditioning (roll down 4 windows, drive at 60 mph and you have 4-60 air conditioning).
I can see a resemblance to my Becky. When I first picked up this picture -- which I got in the mail today from my sister-in-law Libby -- I thought, wow, I look like Becky, or rather Becky looks like me. Becky on the other hand is aging much better than I did. By her age, which I won't post here, I had turned completely gray, gained 100 pounds, and looked old, very old. On the other hand, my beautiful Becky is still beautiful and has kept her pre-children figure. Good for her.