I Triple Dog Dare Ya'

It’s a lively week around here kiddies as it’s prom week. Great Gertie! There are dinner plans to make, dresses to pick up and transportation to arrange. It’s prom this, prom that, prom, prom, prom. Teen Angel is wearing me out with the prom nonsense. She picked up her dress yesterday and thank goodness the alterations were fine. At ninety bucks they oughta’ be. I felt like asking the clerk if I could get a kiss with that, but I behaved myself. The hair appointment has been made, the shoes are in the closet and the tiny gold purse is ready for its debut as cutest accessory of the year. By the time Saturday has come and gone everyone will have had a large time, and a teenage memory will be recorded and tucked away for safe keeping. And plenty of parents will be broke and worn out. It would be easy to philosophize and criticize at this point with lots of “in my day” and “I never”, but that wouldn’t be completely honest because the proof of my youth sits in my closet at this very moment.

While cleaning out the corners of the old house last week, I came across a hanging bag. It held my high school and college graduation caps and gowns and my eighth grade graduation dress. Oh, prairie dress, I loved you so!

There was the maid of honor dress I wore to E.’s wedding, and can I just say my dark Coppertone tan complemented the yellow nicely that summer.

And the Piece De Resistance: My senior prom dress. Hello 1982!

It was the year of the southern belle dress, worn with a hoop. It was the year most of us girls barely fit into the car with our dates because our hoops took up the whole front seat. Parents liked those dresses because it was hard for a boy to paw their daughter in that contraption. Girls like them because they felt like a princess. Isn’t that the way with all prom and wedding dresses? By the way, my wedding dress is hermetically sealed in a box at Mama J.’s house. I kept it, too.

Anyway, I didn’t think it was fair to show you the dress without showing you the dance picture from 1982, so in honor of all that is puffy and sparkly, I give you An Evening in Paris teen Hula style.

Proof that I indulged in my own share of prom nonsense. And I’m hoping some of you will trudge down memory lane with me. I want to see YOUR prom pictures. Come on, post ‘em. You know you want to. And in case you're wondering I did try on the dress, much to Teen Angel's amusement. I could get it on, but I couldn't quite zip it. (Not that I really thought I could wear a junior size 5 that had been taken up on both sides of the bodice, but we all have to dream right?) It does appear I grew breasts after I graduated.