Picture it — Long Island, May 19, 1989. My high school junior prom (although we didn’t call it that; it was called a junior dinner to distinguish it from the prom, which was only for seniors). Lots of Aqua Net and teased hair, pantyhose (yes, pantyhose!) and closed-toe heels, shoulder pads and tulle, double-breasted suits and mullets, wine coolers and cigarettes … It was the late ’80s, after all.
Back then, the junior dinner (or prom) was open only to kids in the junior class. No outsiders and no dates. We all went with a group of friends/classmates, rented a limo, and met at the designated neighborhood for a pre-prom block party where we mingled, took pictures (with pocket-sized cameras that used real film), and drank (in moderation, usually only a wine cooler or two) IN FRONT OF OUR PARENTS!
After an hour or so, we piled into our respective limos to go to the actual prom (i.e., junior dinner dance) for a few hours before getting back into our limos to drive into NYC in an attempt to go clubbing (as if we were fooling anyone that we were actually 21, dressed this way).
Fast-forward 34 years and 1 day later, and I’m back at the junior prom — sort of. This past Saturday was my younger son’s junior prom and boy, how times have changed.
Unlike my junior prom, O’s high school only has one event and it’s open to both juniors and seniors — but the pre-prom location is more divisive. Each friend group has their own.
Speaking of pre-prom, unlike my junior prom, it’s more civilized. It’s not out in the street with cheap booze. It’s often at someone’s beautifully manicured home or a local spot with a picturesque backdrop. And there’s no alcohol — at least not for the kids while the parents are around.
Also unlike my junior prom, some kids take dates and some do not. Mine did not, opting to follow in my footsteps and go stag with some buddies. And unlike my junior prom, the girls all look like pageant queens and the boys come dressed to impress in tuxes. Not a big bow or ruffle in sight.
Ironically, this is my first junior prom as a #boymom. My older son went to boarding school for his last two years of high school and junior proms weren’t part of their culture. Now that I’m a few days separated from the event, I can say it was a pretty smooth, mostly hands-off experience for me — with only a few minor exeptions.
First, there was the tux. Obviously I was paying for this, so I needed to be involved. My normally low-key kid is known for his drip on the field (flashback to his yellow cleats and gloves during the football season), so it was no surprise that he didn’t want to go the traditional black tux route or use the two local tuxedo rental shops. After a few Google searches, he found what he wanted online at theblacktux.com. Easy enough, considering we used this same site for my older son at boarding school during the pandemic. The one hiccup came when we needed to submit his measurements. Not having a tailor’s tapemeasure (I should probably get one of those), we went to a local seamstress — but she wouldn’t take his inseam measurement (it was “inappropriate”) and seemed unsure about what to measure to gauage his suite jacket size. Chest? Back? Both? Frustrating, but once we sorted that out, it was smooth sailing. [Side note: I highly recommend The Black Tux to anyone in need of men’s formal wear. #thisisnotanadbutimopentoit]
Then, the ticket. Again, I was paying for this, so I needed to be involved. But tickets could only be purchased by the student in person during the school day with exact cash (in an odd amount) and a signed consent form, co-signed by a parent. I did not know any of this until 10PM the night before — just as I was getting into bed. Argh! Typical kid move, but somehow I had the exact amount in my wallet, which never happens, and I wasn’t exactly asleep just yet. The prom gods were on his side that night.
But what got me was the lack of planning and organization on my kid’s part. As a planner, this was the worst. Teenage boys are not known for their planning skills. At least not my boys. Everything is last minute, so I should have know better than to keep asking O, for weeks in advance, about his pre-prom, after-prom, and transportation plans because those plans would not even be discussed among his friends until the week of the event — and then they’d change at least three times. Needless to say, I was in the dark until Saturday morning (prom was Saturday night).
None of these were major roadblocks, just minor inconveniences. But even if they were, seeing O in his green tux grinning from ear to ear was all I needed to remember what the night was all about — him and his friends having the time of their lives.
And they did.
— LJDT
