What the heck does “Prom” stand for anyway??

The prom theme was something like “Love Throughout The Ages” or something. I can’t remember. Anyway, the idea was that historically themed promwear was encouraged (by the tirelessly-chipper sort who later become PR twinkies, anyway), so what I wanted was an authentic flapper dress.

I had a bazillion sources for such things, from my grandmother’s trousseau to the stock of the vintage stores where I worked. Nothing was right. The Friday before prom, I resigned myself to spending the weekend at the mall, being slowly deadened by taffetta outgassing.

And then Biff (I called him Biff, it’s not his real name) rolled up in his limo (it was a station wagon, but whatever) and jumped out with a fabulous Louis Vuitton overnight case (a paper grocery sack) full of a surprise.

With my grip of reality firmly in hand, I looked in the bag.

My god, it’s full of fringe.

Biff had managed to come up with <i>his</i> grandmother’s dress, which was an authentic flapper dress. Skintight, princess seamed satin above, silk fringe below, fully lined with some interior hardware bits that I later realized were anchor points for foundation garments.

It was an unbelievable find. And a great prom. And a boyfriend that made me a bad please-take-me-back tape, then a year later pierced his tongue and bought a motorcycle.

Honey, if you’d done that long beforehand, we might still be together.

Anyway, it was a good prom, a great prom photo, and a bitter memory because I had to be home by 11pm. Grrr.