Can I stop talking about boys now? I was trying to be clever and tie this story into my photographs, but it kinda dissolved into a miserable parking lot puddle of memories. Let's not go back. Nay, let us look at the present moment: this is Jack, and he is a boy who would never hate girls or move away. What a gentleman.
Formerly a Nellie, I scalped him mercilessly, stuffed him under a bed, and awaited the arrival of a wig from Monique. This took a while. I then put it on his head. Ta-da! A boy. A boy who looks like a boy (as opposed to a boy who looks like a girl). This was the ultimate goal.
And here he is looking all studly in his button up shirt with the sleeves strategically rolled to make him appear handsomer.
Oh, and did I mention? He has a twin.
Gypsie, his sister, was created with a Marie Grace and Ruthie Wig. I wanted them to look alike, but still have a different face mold.
Double the trouble? Double the cuteness? They sure didn't double my bank account. That's okay. I kinda like them anyway.