ID #1 Defeating the purpose of a seamless bra is the strap that slips out beyond the covering of my cream turtleneck tank top. I, a white person, stand with one hand on my hip and one hand raised holding an iPhone my friend Elizabeth passed down to me. I happily received this gift knowing the lithium wasn’t bought on my dime. In my undergrad I weighed, sifted, and used approximately thirty grams of lithium for ceramic glazes. I regret this for obvious reasons. One strap of my work overalls sits on my left shoulder. I remember feeling embarrassed for not knowing how to tighten the straps at the time of my flight home from Vancouver. I was embarrassed by my low-hanging straps and my PPE. My other eye, the left one, is softly open showing my green-brown eye. My brown hair is golden from the sun and my cheeks are pink also from the summer sun. I smirk at the camera—and the first thing I assume the viewer would rest their gaze on but the last thing I will tell you—is my menstrual cup sitting in the socket of my eye as if it were a monocle.*
ID #2 I take a picture in a moving car. My cellphone camera captures myself, and my cousins Tallulah and Elliott. All three of us wearing seatbelts, faces turned to the camera. Our white skin is in various stages of tan, burnt, from the summer sun. My cousins hide their faces, Tallulah with a printer-paper fan and Elliott with a clear plastic water bottle.
*Audio courtesy of Alexandra's friend