Look at me

Emmy, Susan, and Jerrica hovering around my desk, patently not studying for the quiz they had in 10 minutes. The raging debate of the day: the dress choice of a potential promgoing girl who wanted to buck tradition.

The girls were trying to describe to me the horror of the dress their friend had chosen for the big event. "A mandarin collar," they howled in indignation. "She said she wanted to make a statement." 'Good lord, what was she thinking?"

I honestly could not even imagine what would be so inappropriate about a mandarin dress. One of my best friends got married in one, and took some of the loveliest wedding photos I have ever seen. "I don't see the problem," I ventured. "I think they're pretty." They railed on me as only teenage girls can.

"Miss, you just do not understand," Emmy sniffed. "A mandarin dress is for making a statement at a party, not the prom."

"Yeah," added Susan. "I mean that is just so 'Look at me'"

I had to laugh. I wasn't aware that the teenage bar on 'Look at Me' had been lowered so drastically in the prom department. For years I was one of our school's chaperones for the big event. A small sentimental part of me did it to see off those outgoing seniors whose company I had enjoyed so much over the past years. But the larger part of me, the part that sneaks peeks at the National Enquirer, and gazes at car accidents as I drive past, wanted to get an eyeful at all the ways this new crop of soon to be adults would try to grab the spotlight as they made their entrances to the big show.

And what a show. Over the years the spectacle and one-up-manship has grown to proportions that would make Donald Trump throw up his hands in defeat. The arrival phase of the evening borders on a circus parade. For years the limo competition took center stage: the black stretch, the grey stretch, the ultra stretch. The cars dropping off the teenage revelers got so long that it stopped traffic, literally. There was no way for the limos to make the turn on the circular drive of the first venue. I think that is probably one of the main reasons that in its third year the prom party had to decamp to a hall about 5 miles further west, with a terrible view, but a great parking area. After the limo wars calmed, the methods of delivery got more creative. A motorcycle and sidecar entrance won out one year, followed by four white horses pulling a lighted carriage with the happy couple within dressed in ermine capes and coronets. The end-all, however, was the year four couples arrived to the prom in high style--in a rented chopper. I wasn't sure if it was an entrance or an invasion.

Of course, the show inside is almost as eye-popping. A prom dress was once just a dress. Now it is a statement. Over the years, the fancy frocks have gotten more expensive and less covering than ever. Less skin would be on display at a convention of furriers. Taking cues from a thousand award shows, the hemlines have gotten higher, the necklines plunge deeper than the Mariana Trench, and some of the costumes are held together like feats of modern engineering with invisible filaments and gossamer threads, ready to snap at the slightest provocation. I took to bringing a sewing kit stuffed in my own purse to head off the 35 inevitable dress disasters and the accompanying hysterics took place on any given prom night.

The last bit of theatre takes place on the dance floor. Even though the clothes and vehicles suggest an air of elegance, all of that goes right out the window when the DJ throws on the first beat. The dancing quickly becomes a competition to see which couple can out-shock the masses with suggestive dance moves. Bumping and grinding, writhing around like snakes in a reed basket, the kids put on a show to rival any video that has been banned from MTV. They are performing moves that would probably make Madonna blush, and the larger the crowd their antics attract, the worse it gets. Of course, the chaperones break up the party, trying to tactfully remind the kids to behave appropriately. However, I am not so sure that in their minds their behavior is inappropriate.

Sadly, I think between reality shows, Jerry Springer, and celebrity scandals, we have let pop culture send the message that the most important thing is to be noticed, and never mind how you get it. Cure cancer, pose for Playboy, marry money, it's all the same thing. So, if the adults are indulging in all this shameless self-promotion, why should we be surprised if an old tradition like the Prom becomes just one more stage for each kid to grab as much spotlight as possible.

Somehow, I don't think a mandarin dress at the prom will be nearly as 'look at me' as they think. Unless, maybe it comes with a breakaway bodice.