Sex & Love
FFJD: Would You Go To Prom With Me? Of Cors(age).
It’s prom season, FFJD style. Read More
In keeping with the theme of reinvention of FFJD (not unlike Jill Zarin’s new, less movable face), and high school makeover dreams (maybe that was just me), I wanted to take a moment to discuss prom. Prom. Maybe you went with a limo of 15, you were all spray-tanned within an inch of your lives, and you got to make out with that boy from the next town over in a fit of passion that you haven’t experienced since.
I, on the other hand, went to a small, wonderful, hippie-commune high school where we didn’t have cheerleaders. Or prom queen. Or valedictorian. These facts, coupled with my propensity to bury my head under a pile of textbooks and color code everything, led me to have two somewhat mediocre prom experiences.
Junior year: Note to self – never go to prom with a blind date.
My junior year prom I was set up by my best friend with a boy I didn’t know. At all. I’m not sure why we thought this was a good idea, but she was taking his friend and I was dating some textbooks so I figured why not. The boy was a total sweetheart, and I was, totally awkward. (I clearly hadn’t gone on enough first dates yet in my career as a first-dater.) Said boy, however, decided to dye his hair an odd color the day before prom.
Note to self: don’t dye hair day before prom.
So there I was, with my spray tan, makeup done (I looked Asian, which is fine, I’m just not sure what combination of foundation and mascara made that happen from the woman at Elizabeth Arden), waiting for my knight in shining Sun-in. Sure, prom was fun, but I didn’t really like the guy, and he was a good sport. I, however, was totally uncomfortable sucking face with a guy I’d just met that night. (Oh, how things change! Badum dum.) So I took him outside, looked him square in the face, and said, “I am not going to hook up with you.” I know. I still cringe thinking about it. To this day, he still jokes that I am the “sapphic” girl. I think he was just pissed I wouldn’t hook up with him. Which is sort of valid, because it’s prom, but whatevs, I was too busy deciding whether or not apple martinis were my favorite drink.
Senior year: note to self, if your hair is Japanese-straightened, it won’t hold a curl.
Senior year I went with one of my best friends to prom, and our prom photo is one of the best pictures I own. We are arm in arm, mid extremely loud laugh. I guess I’m not doing anything to help my “sapphic” reputation, except for that I now write a dating blog. (Making up for lost time, anyone?) Enough navel gazing (although I am looking at my navel while typing this, and wondering if I should have gone through with piercing it at 15. Thankfully I decided no).
Fast-forward to now. The point of this post, is that I finally got my prom. It only took six extra years.
My boyfriend (don’t worry, there are several stories to come, including meeting 40+ members of his family at second-night Passover seder), knowing I hadn’t really ever been asked to prom (and always wished I had been), did on Friday night. Sure, it might have been in the form of not one, but two parties being thrown by Capitol File & MSNBC for the White House Correspondence Dinner. (Beats a Marriott or ballroom, no? Except the guys aren’t in silver vests. I feel like every prom photo some dude decided to wear a silver vest.) He even brought me a corsage. (I know, can FFJD be a teen movie already? We can make it 90s style and I’ll wear crop tops and love my Gucci backpack.) Not to mention, Andy Samberg was there. In my head, we ran across the room towards each other in slow-mo while I encased him in FFJD stickers, but really I just stared from afar, vodka/soda/cranberry/splashoforangejuice/splashofcucumber/splashofFFJD in hand. I’ve got a better guy anyway. (Just no Laser Cats.) I did the Herve Leger, and the Spanx, and got my hair done.
Prom-at-24: Note to self, Spanx + Herve Leger = asphyxiation.
But the moral of the story is, it’s never too late to get what you want.
FFJD is here, redone and dazzling for you. I hope you’re as excited as I am. Now who’s going to hold my hair back, steal my corsage, and be the slore who makes out with not one but two boys from the lacrosse team? (Omiggooooood are you going to Becca’s lakehouse afterprom party?? THE THEME IS CAMO!!)
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Posted: May 4, 2011