A few days later and both my twelfth birthday and my first ever Prom were only two days away. “Mother?” I shyly asked. “When am I going to get my Prom dress?”
“You mean your birthday dress?” Mother replied. I gulped and nodded. “On your birthday of course.”
“Have you bought it already?” I asked. Mother grinned and nodded. “But I though I was going to choose it.” I said.
My mother said that she’d seen the ‘perfect’ dress so she went ahead and bought it. “I hope you like it.” she smiled. “And I’m sure you’ll look absolutely lovely in it.” she added.
“I hope it’s not really prissy like in the photos.” I said, recalling all the puke inducing styles which most of the boys wore at last years Prom.
“Well it is a party dress, so by definition it will be a bit ‘prissy’.” Mother told me. “If it wasn’t it’d just be a dress.” she added. I tried to prise some details out of her, in particular its colour, but my mother kept Mother and I simply had to wait and see. I mumbled something about wishing I’d chose my own and Mother said that it wouldn’t be much of a surprise if I had.
My big day arrived and I went to school sporting a brand new digital watch; a G-Shock one no less… although it is a Baby-G in lilac, but even for a girl’s watch it’s still chunky and cool and I was as proud as punch.
When I arrived home I had more presents to unwrap. My sister had bought me an Atlas of World History, which I received most graciously. But Nana and Granddad had sent me a Summer Nightwear Set. On the upside it’s blue, albeit a pale blue. On the downside it consists of a lacy vest and a pair of sleep shorts, also trimmed with lace, a baby doll nightie coupled with a pair of night knickers and a pair of slippers; cut like a ballet shoe and decorated with a little bow on the front. Mother had bought me some new underwear; pink and white stripy knickers with a matching training bra. Of course I tried my best to feign my appreciation, but how convincing I was I’m not sure. I did get a few more books and DVDs which weren’t girlie, but for the most part my gifts were mostly girl’s gifts. Once everything had been unwrapped, I cautiously enquired about my Prom dress. “It’s on your bed.” Mother grinned. “Go and have a look, but don’t try it on it until after you’ve had a snack.”
I went upstairs, opened the door to my room, looked at my bed and my heart sank. The dress that awaited me can only be described as too girlie for most girls.
My mother appeared behind me and asked, “What do you think?”
I gulped and looked up at her. “It’s too prissy Mother… people will laugh at me if I wear that.”
“Of course they won’t.” my mother assured. “…and there’s no such thing as too prissy.” she insisted. I was speechless. Absolutely speechless. Mother showed me that pair of white lacy tights she’d bought, and the pair of pale pink sandals, and a pink & white stripy head band with big floppy bow on it. “And look at this… isn’t it lovely?” she said, drawing my attention to a small bunch of pink and white flowers in a vase on my chest of drawers.
“What’s that for?” I asked.
“It’s your posy.” Mother told me. “Boy’s carry a posy and girls wear a corsage.”
“For the Prom!?”
“Of course.” she grinned. “And if you’ll look on your dresser…”
I looked at my dressing table and saw a small pink handbag. Mother told me that she’d bought me a few bits and bobs which she’d put inside it; namely a lipstick, some powder, some eye shadow, eye liner, mascara and small vanity mirror.
After a light snack and a long shower, I sat in my prissy pink prom dress whilst Mother applied my make-up. she warned me not to rub my eyes or my mouth, otherwise I’d ruin it. She had me apply my own lipstick, which I dropped into my handbag as I’d need to reapply throughout the course of the evening.
I felt like such a prannock as I descended the stairs with my little handbag hanging from my wrist and my posy held in a trembling hand. Jane said I looked beautiful, but I could tell that she was thanking the lord that she wouldn’t be wearing such a prissy outfit on her Prom night.
Mother drove me to school for 6pm and said she’d be waiting at 8pm when the prom ended. Out of all the boys in my year, I reckon mine was onme of the worst dresses of the lot, although i did spot a couple that i felt were worse than mine. Of course all the teachers and girls said I (and the other boys) looked lovely, but as far as I could tell, most of the boys looked like they’d rather be somewhere else wearing something much less dressy. We were all encouraged to participate fully, so we danced with the girls, clapped and cheered at the presentations, tucked into the buffet, danced some more and finally, after a long two hours, the event was over. Mother asked me if I’d had a nice time and I said I had, although I hated almost every second of it. “And did they tell you how nice you look?”
“Yes.” I replied.
“See I told you no one would laugh.” Mother said in a triumphant tone. “What were the other boys wearing? Did they look nice too?”
“I guess.” I replied. I recalled all the dresses the other boys wore. Most I’d have rather worn than this and only a small handful i felt were just as bad or worse. “Mother?” I asked.
“Yes love?”
“Can I choose my own dress for next year’s Prom?” I asked.
