I know that I'm not the only girl who has dreamed of it. Disney made his money capitalizing off these dreams. Average looking girl meets great guy. Great guy takes her somewhere nice. Average looking girl must have perfect dress. Average looking girl finds dress and has the best night of her life with great guy.
Ok, so not every story goes just like that, but it's close. I made (maybe I should say "make," but that just makes me look like a bad person) fun of those girls. They're hopeless limps of women. It's true that in my former life I was Betty Friedan. Those days are over with (for the most part). I've always wanted to make them show some spunk. Ditch your meticulous dress, and live for Pete's sake.
But (yes, here's that turn around that you've been waiting for), it's prom season. The teenage world goes up in arms about tuxes, tulle, and bedazzlers. Facebook becomes the dumping ground for all pictures related to prom.
This is probably my inner Scrouge coming out (ok, it most definitely is). But, in my four years of high school, I never once went to such an event. Part of me rejoices at this realization. The other part wants to go sit in a corner and cry at my complete void of sequins and wrist corsages.
So, in order to comfort myself (and appease those who were curious about my prom experience...or lack there of. ok who am I kidding? who really wanted to know about my prom? and now this footnote is way to long. shutting up now), I've put together the following:
1. The Venue-roof top garden in Brooklyn. End of story.
2. The Dress-Ellie Saab creation, of course.
3. The Guy- (you didn't think I'd leave this part out did you?) Hello quintessential hipster, nerd, chic, friend.
Ok. I feel much better now that all that girliness is out there. I promise some time later this week I'll write about something super-duper meaningful...maybe.