It’s true: I married they guy I went to prom with in high school. I only went to one prom, and I’ve only had one husband. I like the simplicity of that.
When our son was taking our photo in the neighbor’s yard before we jetted off to DIFFA’s “Dining by Design” last weekend, he smarmily stated, “It’s like Parent Prom.” He has a fantastic dry humor, and this aside had me smiling for several blocks as we headed downtown. And the next day, that same comment had me digging for a high school treasure, finally found in a frame in the guest bedroom.
What struck me the most about the two photos I’ve included in this reminiscence is that the back story for each one is almost the same – something old, something new.
In the photo from 1981, I’m wearing a dress I permanently borrowed from my mother’s closet. It was a stunning Ralph Lauren cotton dress that I couldn’t get enough of but only wore once. I followed a simple aesthetic then and stayed with pearl earrings and ballet flats. I can vividly remember that the boutonnière itched like crazy on my fair skin and left me with a rash. My husband is wearing a tuxedo that was his father’s. He had spent time at the tailor having the original garments trimmed down to a size he didn’t swim in. They were “tails” and I found it amazing.
In the photo from last weekend, I’m wearing a fantastic jacket that had hung in my closet for a long time but needed a renaissance. It found a second life in the hands of my dear friend Jon Fulton Adams and his trusty assistant, Ron Megee. I practically wept when it was delivered. It is piece of true magic. My charming date is sporting a rented tux but the memory of his long gone father is still there in the studs on his shirt and the cufflinks at his wrist.
We hadn’t sported full formal attire for almost 20 years. It was a blast for a great cause, and we were with great friends.
I liked parent prom. Very much.
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