i went through three phases as a child when rebelling became the name of the game. first it was when i was extremely young... i must have been around nine. i HATED brushing my hairs and just refused to ever do it. no matter how much people hassled me, i would always say 'no way jose! Rod Stewart doesn't brush HIS!'
and thus was my argument for at least three years until i saw the film mi vida loca. a film that completely convinced me that i was indeed a mexican and i was to look like one in all ways possible. 
during this rebellion, i invested in a giant amount og wet'n'wild makeup in as many browns, whites and tans and possible and wore out at least two curling irons trying to get my hairs exactly like sad girl's.
unfortunately, said coif never materialised and i learned the joy of another mexican lolita i could emulate by the name of Selina. once i saw her live performance of 'dreaming of you' i was a convert to the life of a beautiful mexican princess who could sing and was obsessed with making sure everyone knew that the lady that killed her was guilty and needed to die. my hatred for this woman was such that i still cannae look at the woman that played her in the film without clenching my fists.
alongside the mexican phase, i also participated in the wave of JNCO which made everyone in my family actually want to die. i was a huge fan of making sure i had the widest legs possible for maximum irritation factor.
