PROM

(My thoughts on prom 3 years ago...a entry in an older blog, which came to mind when my friend C. wrote about his own prom experiences. :-p A reminder that when you're young, things are still quite fuzzy and confusing, and everything really does get better in some ways as you grow older. :-))

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Wednesday, 18 July 2007

Prom

She laid her head on his shoulder, her hair in gentle curls, her dress was short and pretty, with a flouncy skirt…. All pink and white, with threads of silver running through it. A big white orchid corsage on her wrist and white heeled slip-ons on her feet completed her baby doll look… It was prom night, and they had just been  picked as prom king and queen. He had on a Beige/ cream suit, matching her, and very fetching.

They danced the slow dance, and everyone's eyes were on them.

*sigh*

A prom dress…and how you feel about it, is a powerful thing. It could make or break you.

 Or at least, that was what I thought when I was 15…And boyish, and vulnerable, and gawky, going through the uncertainty of puberty, and desperately wanting to be “pretty” and “beautiful” enough as...

 Oh, I was in the student government, I was editor in chief of the paper, I got up to nationals in contests, and people knew who I was on campus,  but, essentially, on prom night, those things didn’t matter at all, for your girlish gauge of what is “beautiful” will always be… how pretty you feel in your new dress or whether the boy of your dreams asks you to dance.

I remember sitting in the sidelines that night, while those chosen were dancing the cotillion, looking at how the lights reflected delicately on their shimmering dresses and how their smiles were lighting up their pretty faces. The feeling of not being chosen does something to break a little girl’s teenage heart, somewhat. They got chosen, and you weren’t…

 I remember looking at some of my classmates who had their dresses made especially for the event, and sighing wistfully, “It would have been nice to come in a dress like that…” My own dress was a rich blue-green colored number, but it wasn’t mine, and it wasn’t of my own choosing. “One doesn’t necessarily need to spend so much for something that’s just going to be a one-night affair,” I was told. 

The good memory of a prom night dress has to be sacrificed for the essential practicality. “After the prom, what will you do with the dress?”

It was a fun night, nonetheless. I was buoyed by the confidence of being around people whose company I enjoyed …they still are my friends up to this day. But still, to the awkward girl who just desperately wanted to shine, maybe a nicer dress would’ve been just the right thing.

I don’t think I ever really outgrew that need, you know.

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I've always liked the process of growing up...the improvement process may be confusing, and oftentimes pretty embarrassing, but then when everything's said and done, you become thankful for the experiences you've learned. You eventually learn your own way by feel, you discover what it is you really want, and even the body parts you wait for will eventually grow out on their own in the form you want them to. (haha). 

Puberty was bad...I had the "family zits", my boobs didn't grow out until I was 16, I was skinny as heck in high school and I had the craziest hair...Bottomline is, there has to be a state of awkwardness first that you have to go through with before you can be comfortable in your own skin.

 (However, unlike the rest of my body parts, C., I have always loved public speaking. haha. *connect!*)