sunglasses – c/o Coach
vintage headband (gift from my mom)
Betsey Johnson heels
Rebecca Minkoff MAC
It’s been eleven years since I attended my own prom, and just typing that has reminded me how quickly the time flies by. It’s also a testament of long I’ve been blogging, since I documented the entire affair in my Open Diary. Of course, we didn’t call it “blogging” then, nor did we refer to it as such when I transitioned to LiveJournal. But whatever we may have called it, I was so grateful to have an outlet to discuss my day to day, divulge my secret crushes, and lament the throes of being a teenaged basket case. And what a basket case I was.
I remember my prom very well, from choosing the dress (I didn’t wear dresses back then and made hell for my poor mom), hoping for a date, and then giving up on that idea and going with my gay best friend. Prom was not an especially magical night for me – it ended in tears. I’m afraid that despite my outwardly cynical outlook on the whole affair, I had higher hopes for it than it possibly could have delivered. I watched a whole lot of Pretty in Pink and assumed that since the rest of my story was so similar to Andie’s, the end result would also be the same. I imagined my crush coming in and sweeping me off my feet, then dancing the night away to eighties love ballads. It didn’t work like that. He didn’t even go to my school, and I’m not one for dancing (being clumsily pigeon-toed and all), so I’m not sure how that would have worked. But teenaged minds can be very curious. It seemed so logical in the movies!
If I had to do it all over again, of course I’d still go. But I would merely treat it as an excuse to dress up and have a good time with friends. I might also gather up the courage to talk to my crush – after all, what would I have to lose? – and swap my floor length gown for something I’d feel a little more comfortable in, like a shorter, vintage dress. Even now, I don’t feel like myself in anything too formal – though I’d give up my whole wardrobe for a few dresses from Downton Abbey. Now that I’m thinking of Downton, I can barely remember what I was supposed to be writing about. I tend to get caught up in fictional worlds…can you tell?