Big Bird
I was a freshman going to prom. That was a big freaking deal! My heart fluttered as I prepared to tell my mother. The boy, Josiah, had randomly asked me if I was interested in going. There was no glitter poster with a clever phrase written on it. No big gesture using an insane amount of background dancers. Thank goodness that didn’t happen or I might have thrown up.
Actually, an essay about vomiting would have been significantly more interesting. When I told my mom that Josiah had asked me, she was skeptical and tentative to let me go. This was a completely new experience for the both of us. She never went to prom in high school and this was my first time as well. There was about a month before the dance. We had so much shit to …show more content…
It has to be the perfect one, every single time. Some girls spend hundreds or even thousands of dollars on a sparkly piece of fabric. A glorified sheet with a hole in the top of your head, if you really break it down. There was no way in heaven or hell that my mother was going to pay for a dress that was a cent over one hundred dollars.
My mother decided to go to Macy’s at Rosedale Mall and try our luck. We walked into the dress section and were immediately greeted with what looked like party city had retched all over some brightly colored fabric. Some of these things could barely be considered a dress. I prefer to refer to them as a wardrobe malfunction waiting to happen.
I had no big dream dress. I could have dealt with a bedazzled bed sheet. The first dress that I picked out was basically just that. I then continued to grab about seven more and marched to the dressing room.
The dressing room was filthy. There were sharp, rusty pins strewn on the floor. It was sweltering in the cramped space. The door barely locked on its own. My mother took her stance against it for good measures. Rejected clothes hung with sadness on the wall. We heard only the sound of overly excited females talking about their plans for the big …show more content…
Once again I dove into the dress determined to find the light at the end of the tunnel. I felt like Indiana Jones trying to fight my way to the collar which was covered in cheaply sewn rhinestones. Fighting back, getting my hair caught, twisting the wrong way and not letting me through. This monster of a dress was resilient. Without letting up, I burst through what I thought was the neckline, only to find that I had the dress on sideways. This piece of shit was out to get me. As I look around for my mother's help, I see that she is once again unable to compose herself and is on the
I was a freshman going to prom. That was a big freaking deal! My heart fluttered as I prepared to tell my mother. The boy, Josiah, had randomly asked me if I was interested in going. There was no glitter poster with a clever phrase written on it. No big gesture using an insane amount of background dancers. Thank goodness that didn’t happen or I might have thrown up.
Actually, an essay about vomiting would have been significantly more interesting. When I told my mom that Josiah had asked me, she was skeptical and tentative to let me go. This was a completely new experience for the both of us. She never went to prom in high school and this was my first time as well. There was about a month before the dance. We had so much shit to …show more content…
It has to be the perfect one, every single time. Some girls spend hundreds or even thousands of dollars on a sparkly piece of fabric. A glorified sheet with a hole in the top of your head, if you really break it down. There was no way in heaven or hell that my mother was going to pay for a dress that was a cent over one hundred dollars.
My mother decided to go to Macy’s at Rosedale Mall and try our luck. We walked into the dress section and were immediately greeted with what looked like party city had retched all over some brightly colored fabric. Some of these things could barely be considered a dress. I prefer to refer to them as a wardrobe malfunction waiting to happen.
I had no big dream dress. I could have dealt with a bedazzled bed sheet. The first dress that I picked out was basically just that. I then continued to grab about seven more and marched to the dressing room.
The dressing room was filthy. There were sharp, rusty pins strewn on the floor. It was sweltering in the cramped space. The door barely locked on its own. My mother took her stance against it for good measures. Rejected clothes hung with sadness on the wall. We heard only the sound of overly excited females talking about their plans for the big …show more content…
Once again I dove into the dress determined to find the light at the end of the tunnel. I felt like Indiana Jones trying to fight my way to the collar which was covered in cheaply sewn rhinestones. Fighting back, getting my hair caught, twisting the wrong way and not letting me through. This monster of a dress was resilient. Without letting up, I burst through what I thought was the neckline, only to find that I had the dress on sideways. This piece of shit was out to get me. As I look around for my mother's help, I see that she is once again unable to compose herself and is on the