Oblong quarto, 8.25 x 11.5 inches. Limp suede with wraparound wallet closure and sailing-off-into-the-sunset vignette painted on the cover. 35 leaves tentatively bound with a suede cord (and a bobby pin holding the center). Just over 100 snapshots in total (about 20 loose), plus 47 individual school portraits arranged over 2 leaves. Manuscript captions appear in white, many duplicated in type and taped to the pages--the tape adhesive has failed and many of the typed captions are loosely tucked in. Likewise, there are some pages where captions remain for missing photos; some leaves are dislodged and creased at the foredge, possibly out of order. Some discoloration to snapshots, especially those added later in the sequence. Light residue from the suede and black paper, Very Good condition overall.

The album was started by a teenage girl in 1955 with a photograph of her beloved chihuahua, "My first true love," a recurring character in the album (among other dogs). It jumps chronologically with the inclusion of older family photos but appears to have been compiled within a few years of being a junior in high school. The album is full of warmth and adoration for matriarchal excellence. Her mother only appears in one captioned photo, dated 1952, but others feature her grand and great-grandmothers. She appears to be living with them in California, but the permanence of the arrangement is unclear. One of the loose snapshots is identified as Robert Rose, the band teacher at Burroughs High School in Burbank, CA, suggesting she spent time as a student there. Although they may be uncredited in some of the older photos, her parents are conspicuously absent from her contemporary snapshots.

Likewise, a general lack of men. Of over 100 photos, fewer than 20 include men, a quotient largely comprised of photos with friends and beaus, and snapshots of fashionably moody young men that are loosely inserted between three pages—victims of the defunct adhesive, but maybe fittingly unfixed.

Standout passages: a scene at the beach where her grandmother's bikini straps are pulled down in a woman’s eternal quest to evade tan lines, captioned, This is a "Cheesecake". The sun’s so hot I think I’ll bake; shenanigans with her friends, including a series with two girls climbing a tree and doing handstands, captioned, Who says the kids of today can’t stand on their own 2 feet. It’s the world that really mixed up, not us; girlfriends dancing in their bloomers and generally cavorting at a sleepover, photos of her as a child in dance photos and special occasion outfits.

Lastly: a band of women with three children encapsulates the quiet strength captured throughout the album. Immensely & unsuspectingly evocative.