Prom Dress

Prom. That was a word I’d never heard in 1984 (the year I turned 16, took my O’levels, first heard a Billy Bragg record and lost my virginity). My younger daughter, H, turned 16 a few months ago and is even now revising for her GCSE’s. She’s already met Billy Bragg twice. Thankfully, I don’t know about the virginity thing.


Of the things that have changed in the last 26 years, the importing of the concept of a prom seems to be for the best. A chance to celebrate together before moving on to other things. A chance to buy a really nice frock and to play at sophistication before kicking off the high heels and rolling down a grass bank fuelled by crafty glugs of WKD. Some girls relish the whole dressing up thing. I wasn’t sure how H, always a jeans, tee shirt and expensive trainers girl, would take it. Since she was four years old, she had bought one dress and that was in denim.

I remember the dress before that. It was a blue gingham school dress with white peter pan collar and cuffs. I bought it in H’s absence and presented it to her, anticipating squeals of delight. There was silence and a furrowed brow. ‘I can’t wear that’ she fretted ‘people will see my legs.’ She did put it on a few times, reluctantly, for my sake. It began the period of her refusal to buy clothes from the girls section of any shop, and her instructing hairdressers to give her boy’s hair cuts. To be mistaken for a boy was her ultimate accolade.

She got feminine again though, but never went girlie, and still never wears pink. Her clothes are neat, simple, always fit well and always suit. I’ve never known her buy anything and not wear it, and she’s never let me buy her anything she doesn’t want. H’s now has a limited collection of garments that last years. She likes quality, and is worth the investment. I’ve been curious to find out what she would choose to wear for the ball, and feared that she may want to wear a dinner suit. I’m not sure how I would have dealt with that. I also speculated that she would perhaps go for a plain black shift dress, or one in the light shell shades that are big this season.

Off we went to Birmingham yesterday, to get the dress. We had a lovely time chatting about all sorts of things. We don’t do enough of that. She’s busy with her own life after all. This time, she was in a mood for openness and we had laughs and serious discussion on school, girlfriends, books, family and clothes. Phew there were a lot of clothes. She was game to browse and try on, modelling ball gowns while keeping her socks on. In the end, she went for the first dress we saw. Neither the style nor the colour I had guessed at. A perfect fit, fun, youthful and suitable for the occasion. Can you tell I’m proud?

I can’t tell you more about it because, like a wedding dress it has to be a surprise (clue: it was from Warehouse). We have yet to get shoes, but H is considering heels. That would be the biggest step yet.