I promised Anne at the City Sage that I would tell her my two tragic prom stories due to the fact that I am lacking on the blogging front which, by the way is because of very important project in the works. Anyways, you have to check out this blog post starring our own Queen Anne. I cracked up when I saw that because that was SO opposite of my prom experience.
First off, let's start with one of the dresses that I had to have made for this event. A friend of my mother's offered to make this dress for me and I was so excited when I picked out the dark green taffeta that I could hardly contain myself. We had a first fitting with the pattern and we decided that adding about 7 inches in extra material to the hemline of the pattern would be sufficient. Imagine my surprise when I went in the day before the dance to try on my mermaid dress...(Not an actual picture of me in the dress...but almost except no shells in my hair...and no pink)
wait...except it was not supposed to be a mermaid dress! It was just a simple A-line dress. She had added all 7 inches at the waist instead of the hemline. I was mortified! To make things worse, I was just nominated to be Freshman Princess earlier that day. Thank god my mom came up with the idea to cut the dress in half and make two separate pieces out of it. Brilliant.
Enter my second "prom" experience. Now please understand that I went to a very small school in southern Oregon so for me there was never a romantic connotation behind prom..that being said, my best friend in school was supposed to take me to our senior prom. It was a given right? Wrong. He ended up taking the chick that had just had a baby because he felt sorry for her. Like I said, small town. So where did that leave me? Nowhere...until a sweet underclassman stepped up and asked me. Underclassman meaning I had to drive...because he was not old enough. Oh yes, nothing says magical prom night like hiking up your floor length dress so you can drive your Chevy pick-up to the dance. Thank god I don't have to ever do that again.
What about you guys? Any fun and exciting stories that you would like to share? Crazy themes? Even crazier music? Unfortunately, 1996 was the year of the Marcarena. Ouch...that is really dating myself.