Writing Group

I have joined a writing group that meets once a month. We decide on a topic for the next month and we all share what we have written. The first month for me was in May and the topic was memories of prom or other dances. I found it difficult to get inspired on a topic I did not pick so it really challenged me. What I wrote is really a combination of several dance memories put together as one so forgive my indulgences.

A Practical, Perfect Prom

Prom is in the air. All around town bedrooms and billboards bear the message: Will you go to the prom with me? I was reading an article from the Los Angeles Times a few days ago about the cost of a high school prom today. The writer referred to a survey conducted by the credit card company, Visa. They “determined that $1,078 is typical for the outfits, limos, parties and assorted goodies associated with the annual rite of passage for young people.” What?! Are you kidding me?! Since when did the prom come into competition with one’s wedding? But that’s exactly what it seems. Rachel (a character on the popular TV show Glee) said,  “Next to my wedding, my prom dress will be the most important gown I’ll ever wear.”

Back in my day (you don’t know how long I’ve waited to be old enough to say that) prom was just a formal dance. No more, but no less. Thankfully proms were more practical but no less enchanting. My heart fluttered just as much when asked to the dance by a boy face to face. No elaborate schemes were needed. Just a simple Will you… followed by a simple yes. Easy, huh?  

The morning of the dance I met with other classmates at the school to decorate. We twisted and turned crepe paper into a false ceiling and hung tiny lights to give the gymnasium a more intimate feel. Other décor was hung on the pushed-in bleachers and items placed strategically around the room to create ambience and theme. Preparations were as much fun as the actual dance as we laughed and worked to turn our gym into a prom paradise.

By afternoon my personal transformation began. I rushed to my friend’s house as her older, stylish sister turned our usually straight tresses into upswept do’s with cascading curls. Wow! We were glamorous! I handed her sister a generous $5 for her time and left to finish my metamorphosis at home. Even though I never really liked having long nails, I had been letting them grow, just for prom. I filed them and painted on a little polish.  Posh! About two hours before pickup time I eased into a nice warm bath and to soak and relax, making sure to protect my coiffured hair. I laid there for nearly an hour, adding hot water periodically to keep the bath warm. Then it was time to start the dressing ritual.

I slipped into a pink satin gown that my mother had made for me, as a bridesmaid for my brother’s wedding when I was about twelve. Luckily I had matured early and didn’t grow much more in high school. I wore a beautiful black and rhinestone pin of my mother’s, borrowed someone’s long black gloves, and slid on some old pumps that I had hand painted pink to match my dress (before that the shoes had been painted yellow for another dance). I dressed slowly, looking in the mirror at each addition to make sure it was just right. I felt pampered and pretty. Once I was ready (early, of course) I paced around my room, not daring to sit down because it would wrinkle my dress.

Then the doorbell rang and my heart jumped. My date arrived looking very handsome in a borrowed tuxedo (yes, his brother-in-law actually owned one!) He had bought a simple corsage that, with the help of my mother, was pinned to my dress. We slipped into the car with two other boys and started the rounds to pick up their dates as well. The cost of gas was split between the three of them. After all, the price of gas was about twenty cents a gallon.