I had a very particular - and perhaps too matchy-matchy - sense of personal style (note the socks), and I knew I had good legs. I still do.
Though I don’t remember this picture being taken.
I was always the class sissy at every school I went to, and very much bullied and picked on. Visiting relatives was always a nice vacation from all that...
I look happy in this picture, and I'm glad, because I don’t remember my childhood as especially happy. I was gay and lonely, and we were poor, and there were "problems at home."