Prom as a 29-year-old, part 1

I mentioned on facebook that my most creative, unique, interesting girl had asked my smartest, most polite, genuine boy to the prom and how adorable of a couple I thought they’d make. (At least for prom. I don’t want any of them ACTUALLY dating until they’re like my age, helloh!)

Well, last weekend was the prom, dun dun dun dunnnnnnnnnnn.  It was a big to-do for the kids with a lot of absenteeism in order to be properly coiffed, manicured, and made-up. There were limos and hotel rooms rented and hundreds into the thousands of dollars spent on the weekend. It was eye-opening to me to see kids who cannot/will not spend $15 on an AP study guide spend so many bones on a mere few hours of “enchantment.” Academic hrrmph.

I’m not sure how many pictures I will post—I will check my camera and update this post—but I tend to keep my students off of my social media for privacy purposes. Trust me when I say that there were beautiful gowns and fancy tuxedos. The bead work, the chiffon, the tulle, the mile-high-heels were something to behold. There was a red carpet and everything for their entrance. 

A few moments: one of my very unique (talk about marching to her own drum) and old-soul students was more or less dressed as Marilyn Monroe. She had the classic halter dress (but it was in red) with the mini-pleats of the skirt and elbow-length white gloves on. She looked breathtaking. 

My super-genius-kid-I’d-hang-out-with-in-real-life boy student (who's obsessed with Soviet Russia, so he rolled my eyes when I introduced him as a Communist) attended prom with another smart friend and their outfits were tastefully coordinated—he in a seafoam team vest and tie with her in an aqua-colored gown. They seemed to move as a group of (nerdy) friends and thoroughly enjoy each other’s company. That was sweet to see.

The deliciously awkward couples? Ah yes, the ones who’d broken up this week or in the past few days, but still had coordinated dresses, tuxes, and corsages..the tension was palpable between some of them. Another awkward thing? Hipster skinny pants with tux jackets. Weird, dudes. It looks weird.

I have a funny one and a sweet story to mention—and I hope it doesn’t violate too much of my date’s privacy to mention this one—but I’ll go with it. My date wasn’t very excited about attending the prom, for, well, obvious reasons. When one doesn’t work with the 17-19 year-old set, who wants to spend a Friday evening with them? He was a good sport and agreed to go and snap any pictures I wanted with “my kids” and listen to all the ridiculous inside stories I had to say about any of my little monsters.

So my date was a little perplexed about what to wear, but I knew he had some dress clothes hanging in his closet—and he (as the kids would say) TURNED UP! in excellent fashion. He wore a beautiful burgundy/purple shirt (it complimented my red party dress!), tailored jacket, black slacks, and suspenders—but not really suspenders—they’re called braces. I’m not so up on my fancy-pants-men’s fashion words to know that—but when the suspenders don’t clip on, but in fact, attach to the loop inside the expensive dress pants—then, they’re called braces. 

I swear there’s a reason I’m saying all that.

So we had basically just arrived at the lobby of the hotel and made our way into the ballroom when the polite, genuine boy found me. He hugged me, complimented me-- told me I looked great and put his hand out to introduce himself to my date. My student is a very charismatic kid, yet he’s also very insightful, so he knew that I wasn’t sure if I was going to prom if my date hadn’t wanted to go.  He was wearing a pretty complicated rented tux to match his date’s black on white gown—so he had the white and black shoes, the stylish black shirt with the white bow tie and vest, and the black jacket with the white silk handkerchief in the pocket. He looked sharp! (And it was probably the fanciest thing he’s ever worn in his life.) It was very mature and very grown up of him to offer the handshake and name first--my date dutifully introduced himself—it was very mature and manly of both of them.

(Granted, my date is an adult who works in a professional field, so handshakes and polite introductions are the norm, for him. The sweet part was how mature and grown-up my little baby 17-year-old in fancy clothes was being. I expected nothing less.)

 

The music was so incredibly loud in the ballroom—so you couldn’t hear anyone unless you were shouting in their ear—and it was also pretty crowded. My student was about ready to walk off and go back to dancing, but then he paused. In this sweet moment of, I can’t even think of a descriptor, naivety, my student (who is a tall, handsome kid in a very fancy tux)—opened his tux jacket, shoved his vest to the side, and pointed at his suspender (brace, eh?) and then pointed to my date’s. It was such an “aww” moment of, “You’re my teacher’s date and I really respect her and want her to be impressed by me, and look, look, man, we have the same thing on!!”

·        Maybe you had to be there. But it was sweet.

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·        The other moment was less poignant and more comical—by a lot.

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