Archive for 'Lace Disgrace'
Ellen writes: “We went to different schools, and our proms were on the same weekend. Mine (marina background) was on Friday night, then his (white background w/ flowers) was Saturday. Same outfits, but I did my hair and makeup different. I was so thrilled that the flowers at his prom matched mine!
I’m still totally in love with that dress. Both my sisters and a couple of other girls borrowed it for their proms over the years. It’s still in my closet. Maybe my daughter will love it too?
BTW, the guy was such a total jerk that I covered his face in these pictures.”
Ellen. I was with you. I see your pink satin, lace-tiered dress and remember 1990 and tooooooootally get it. I see your spray-perm bangs and I see how the texture of your hair is actually echoed in the lace tiers and I get that, too*. I am with you when you say you’ve done your hair and makeup differently from one night to the next, where one night it’s “down” and the next it’s “somewhat down.” Your date’s light pink bow tie and cummerbund with SATIN lapels? Icing on this textural cake. Your gloves are a perfect accent.
I am also very, very much with you when you’ve replaced your (one) date with (two) different gentlemen of equal hotness. Well done, Ellen.
But I am concerned. While I totally agree that this dress was perfect for a bygone era, I can’t really get my head around the trajectory that fashion would have to take in order for your daughter to also wear this dress to her prom. Oh, I suppose it’s possible. But this might have to skip a generation before becoming relevant again. Is my thought.
By the way: Do you think your prom committee thought that by sitting you in front of a painted marina mural we might actually think you were on a dock? (With a wall and wicker chair?) I’m kind of thinking yes.
*This picture goes into the “shared hair” category, not because Ellen and her date share similar hairstyles, but because her hair is kind of like the lace in her dress.
Christy writes: Junior prom. My boyfriend broke up with me the day before. I bought my own corsage and convinced my girlfriends to take this picture with me. I’m the one on the right. Showing you my shoe.
This is one of those photos that I love more and more with each passing glance. It’s just — “just” — four girls at prom. And yet?
Why is no one smiling? I mean, the second from the left is thinking about smiling, but doesn’t quite get there. I have the distinct feeling this was established to be a “serious” sort of photo shoot for some reason I can’t fathom but that would have made sense when I was 17.
Apparently 1992 had something against straight hemlines. And straight hair, for that matter. I mean, no, none of these adorable girls have official perms (that would be too 80s), but they are all certainly flirting with the perm. They are PERM FLIRTS.
The girl in black looks like she wants to smack the photographer just a little bit.
There’s just a deceptively copious amount of satin and tulle and sequin and lace and bows and ruffles and Promtacular glory. If I do say so.
Mostly I wonder if the girls — or the photographer — decided to go the “show us your toe” route in the hopes of distracting us from the carpet that defies explanation. I have nothing against the pattern for a QUILT. In a log cabin. In Maine. In February. Or even for a nice golf pant? Maybe?
But for a magical prom night? There aren’t enough mylar star balloons or satin shoes in the world to make it right.
Bejewell writes: “My boyfriend dumped me three weeks before prom, so I asked an older (22!!!) friend to go with me. I vividly remember shopping with him to find the perfect military-styled jacket. We found it at Merry-Go-Round at the mall.
My dress was borrowed from my mom and I thought it was the prettiest thing I’d ever seen. It was a cream-colored lace overlay with slip. I had the shoes dyed to match. Seriously.
Hairstyle brought to you by bendy hot rollers and Finesse.”
But WHY a military-styled jacket? I guess that jacket cut WAS popular at the time (think MC Hammer), but if you’re going to go for it, why not go allll the way and get a giant flat-top (Vanilla Ice) to go with it? Because THAT would have been awesome.
I totally understand why one would find this dress pretty — it is. But mostly in a Laura Ingalls Getting Married kind of way. Those are totally Nelly Olson curls.
Hmm. Or maybe I’m just thinking about Laura Ingalls because of the BUTTER CHURN in the living room next to the television. Just like how the pioneers watched tv!
I mostly love how not only were Bejewell’s shoes dyed to match the cream-colored dress, it sort of looks like the fake wood paneling was, too.