Prime prom season? January, if you ask me. That's when the butterflies start setting in and all the senior girls get anxious at the mall each weekend. That's when the Facebook group is made to ensure no one gets the same dress. It's when "promposals" spread faster than mono through the halls.
No, prom season does not start in the sticky spring months when the plans have been set and boys scramble to get their tuxes. Prom is engrained in most high schoolers much, much earlier than that.
Sure, I'll admit, the Facebook group was helpful. Scratch that, it was mostly entertaining. Every notification of a new girl's dress being posted was like a mini-movie. What did it look like? Who was going to comment what? How much do you think her parent's are shelling out? The extravagance of the dresses could only be matched by the cattiness of our classmates and it made it all seem like one big joke. At least to me, anyway.
You see, not everyone can take these things with such a grain of salt. Dresses were changed and friendships were ended faster than the hem on the Sherri Hill strapless could be mended. Girls would stare at envy at their friends' being asked to the dance during lunch breaks. Boys would wonder in disbelief, thinking how could they manage to ask their date when some guy just flew a personal message plane over the school? Then there were the brave souls who tried to fit 30 highschoolers who would actually get along for the night in a party bus. They would have been better off solving a Rubik's cube.
And what did this all boil down to? A couple hundred photos in someone's backyard on a Thursday afternoon and two hours spent at the real prom before jetting off to drink at someone's house before after-prom. Most of my senior class left before the main course at dinner was even served. The waiters knew the drill and didn't even bother plating most tables. Eighty dollars is a hefty price tag for some cocktail hotdogs and a spring mix salad, if you ask me.
I made the most of prom despite everyone leaving before they could even play a slow song. Despite spending less than $50 on my dress and having my limo break down as we left the venue, I had a complete freaking blast. Because what it boils down to is what happens that day. What you make of it. That's what life is always about. And as I come back home for the summer and see the same girls in my town spend thousands of dollars on hand-painted dresses they will change out of three hours into the night, I can't help but recall my own experience. How fun it was and how stress-free it was compared to all the meticulous planning of my classmates.
Prom is one night of thousands I hope you get to enjoy. You might have the night of your life, you may not. No matter what, go out there and enjoy it. But bottom line: it is not worth ridiculous amounts of money, time or energy when years, months or even mere weeks after no one is going to care what you looked like or who you went with. Chances are you yourself will look back at that night and recall things you almost forgot. When you do remember, let those memories be one of happiness and not stress.
