I guess I was about 9-10 (1974) when I asked mom if I could let my hair grow.
She said, “As long as you keep it clean, I hate greasy hair”.
Well I was off to the races. From that point on they never really said much about my appearance other than my Dad’s obligatory “Boy, get a haircut”.
My look in High School was much more Judd Nelson in the “Breakfast Club” several years before the movie came out.
Since I paid for my own garb from 15, I spent a lot of money in Thrift stores.
Mom was always cool about it, and would occasionally shake her head jokingly, and laugh a little.
She knew she had raised a “unique” kid.
I went through a post HS punk phase that earned me the nickname “Sid” with my co-workers.
Since I was out on my own at 18, my parents had very little influence.
Never been or will I ever get a tattoo or piercing and thankfully I grew out of that phase to become respectable.
There is however a certain “attitude” that I still retain.
I had longish hair in college (shoulder length). I recall being polite to older people (holding a door for them, etc.) and they would give me the most surprised looks.
Home for summer one time I mentioned to my dad that I was going to go get a haircut. “Don’t get it cut too short. I like your long hair.” Surprised the heck out of me! (And no - he wasn’t being sarcastic).