Since it is prom season, I thought I would reminisce on the twenty-sixth anniversary of my own prom.
I went with my former boyfriend, Wake. He was not my former boyfriend at the time. If I remember correctly, he was my soon-to-be boyfriend at the time. But, hey, it has been twenty-six years, so I may be a little off with my dates.
Wake’s sister was an amazing seamstress, so she offered to make me a prom dress. I chose green taffeta; in 1987, green was the new black. I loved the completed strapless dress, but it was a tiny bit too big around my chest, so my mom safety-pinned the dress to my strapless bra.
We had a great night. Our limo driver was named Chester (I can’t believe I still remember that), and Wake sent dessert, pie I think, out to the limo half-way through our dinner.
When the dance was over, we headed back to the limo. As I went to step into the car, my dress got caught on the heel of my shoe. (In case you are wondering, they were dyed-to-match pumps from Leads). Since the dress was attached to my bra, my entire ensemble was swiftly jerked down to my waist. I did an ever-so-clever shift-and-shimmy move and simultaneously slid into my seat while I readjusted my bra/dress combination.
The car was quiet for several moments, and I exhaled with relief. It appeared no one had seen my unintentional striptease. Several yards out of the parking lot, John-Eric, a classmate and friend who was sharing the limo, leaned over my shoulder and said, “I totally saw that,” and burst out laughing.
The moral of the story is: strapless dresses, though cute, are generally a bad idea, and also, never safety-pin anything to your underwear.