Once An Ugly Girl…
What does one DO with that information?!
I am a third generation Ugly Girl. I am descended from a mother who was nowhere near the prettiest of six sisters, who were themselves the daughters of the ugliest of my four beautiful great-aunts. These are not my judgments or classifications but their own.
My mother was cursed with oily skin, a slightly larger nose and small boobs in a family of stair-stepped sisters whose clear, pretty skin on small-nosed, full-lipped faces topped hour-glass figures that were the envy of their entire neighborhood.
My grandmother — born of a tall, muscular, very handsome half-blood Native American and Black father and small, petite, stunning Black mother — should have joined her beautiful sisters and handsome brothers comfortably in what was then known as a family of well-bred, upper middle-class Black folk. Falling somewhere in the middle of the birth order, no one has ever explained how my grandmother was born with either a full set of black teeth or her baby teeth came in black and rotted. I could never get that straight and my grandmother was too humble for me to bring such a hurtful question to her before she passed away.
She had such a severe case of rickets that her bowed legs had to be broken, twice I think. That she was very light-skinned with full lips and a big bosom was…
