I'm a little late. It's not because I was out Black Friday shopping. I refuse to shop on Black Friday. After thirteen years of retail, it's a matter of principle. Someone has to get up and be at work at least an hour before all those shoppers show up, and I can guarantee they'd rather be in bed. So that's my rant about that.
To continue on with the parade of hideous formals... I don't have a picture of me in a formal. However, I do have a funny story about my Senior year Homecoming Banquet. Yes, it was a banquet, there was no dancing. (I feel like I have to explain that every time so we're all on the same page.)
Imagine if you will, a small, private Christian school with about 120 students in the high school. Every year, a Homecoming Banquet is held in the fall, and a Junior/Senior Banquet is held in the Spring. Well after enough complaints of boredom from the students, the faculty decided to try something different. Because they were such a small group, they could do something fun, like say, a mystery dinner theater.
Yes, we went to a mystery dinner theater for Homecoming. We didn't fill up the whole room, so there were tables with random people sitting at them. I can't even begin to think what those poor people were thinking when they entered the room full of teenagers in formals with a few wary-looking chaperons. Oh, and even though someone at the restaurant knew that a group of Christian teenagers were attending that night, the actors went right ahead with the normal show, full of double-entendres and sprinkled with a few choice words.
This point would be a good time to introduce my date. He was a friend of my older sister's boyfriend, and he was in the country on a student visa. He was from England, had long hair, and drove a white Harley. He was also very well mannered and polite to my parents. Yeah, I was rebelling with an extremely polite gentleman because that's how I roll.
Here's a shot of me, my date, my sister, and another one of our friends taken on a different night.
Back to the banquet, we were sitting at a table with a few other people from my class, one of whom hated the school and did her best to be as different from everyone else. So of course when the, um, adult jokes were made, the director of the school (a Baptist Pastor) and the other chaperons became quite red, several students stifled giggles, several more ducked their heads and covered their mouths with napkins, and my date and my rebellious friend laughed loudly. I felt so bad. I had to explain to him why no one else was laughing. He looked confused at first, but apparently decided to ignore it because he continued to laugh at what he thought was funny which I enjoyed very much. Especially since it didn't help drain the blood from the chaperons' faces.
So the next year, they went back to the hotel dining hall.
In trying to keep with the "look at my hideous formals" theme, I found a picture that I actually like. I know that I'm normally very self-deprecating, but this time I can't really say too many negative things about this picture. I'm sorry, I tried.
This is my dad and youngest brother, too. In case you can't figure that out.
Obviously this was my Junior year of high school. Obviously I made the homecoming court. I didn't make queen because that was only available to the three Senior representatives. What isn't so obvious is that we only had fifteen girls in my class so it wasn't that big of an accomplishment and I'm wearing a bridal gown that was $25 on the sale rack of the bridal store where I was working at the time. Yeah, that dress had a train that my mom cut off. I believe the reason it had been marked down was because of some stains on the hem, because my mom cut off a couple inches from the front as well. She also put a slit up the front so I could walk without doing the geisha shuffle which was very helpful when I had to be escorted across the basketball court by my father during halftime. Oh, yeah, did I forget to mention that my high school is so small that they don't have a football team? They have Homecoming Banquet during basketball season and Junior/Senior Banquet in the Spring.
Anyway, I really liked this dress a lot. It was very retro in the way it was cut (for the early nineties anyway), and the neckline was fairly flattering for a girl with no chest. Hey, that's me! I had no chest, so it was fairly flattering. It's kind of hard to see the pattern, but it was a really pretty brocade stripe that lengthened. That was something my beanpole self didn't need, but I liked it anyway.
The one bad thing I have to say about this picture is- I have no idea why my hair looks like that. Whoever I paid to do my hair like that should have gotten a stern talking to. Don't get all up-in-arms about me being wealthy enough to pay someone to do my hair. I had a job, found a hugely marked down dress and bought my shoes at Payless. Plus, I was on court that year and was getting my picture in the yearbook. It was necessary. It does make my head look huge though, doesn't it? I look like a bobble-head. Oh, I almost forgot, the next night at the banquet, I matched the tablecloths. Yeah, they had off-white brocade tablecloths. Everyone else at my table was wearing black, so I stuck out like a sore thumb. Not something a shy teen-aged girl wants.
It's like when Maria made the kids clothes from drapes, except my mom stole a tablecloth. Not really.
You should recognize the girl sitting at my left, she wised up that year and went with something more subtle. No more Michelin Tire Sleeves for her! Sheesh, I'm really slumping over in the picture, too. I guess that's what happens when the person sitting next to you is a good six inches shorter than you are. I have to say too, that only three of us at the table were completely in dress code, one was right on the edge, one was in violation, and one kept her dress on her shoulders until the camera came out. That's one thing dress codes taught us- how to push it just far enough without getting caught.
So that's my Junior Year Homecoming Ensemble. If you would like to peek back at my Freshman and Sophmore years, feel free! I don't think I have any pictures of my Senior year Homecoming, which is sad. I don't even remember what I wore, but I do have a good story about that year and a casual picture of me and my date taken on a different day.
It's Sunday night, and I'm just finishing up the coming week's lesson plans! Of course, I'm watching some movies on Netflix Watch Instantly so come tomorrow morning I may have to re-do some page numbers, but it keeps me seated so I'm not constantly finding other things to do.
This is really not like me to be this ahead of schedule. I'm normally making up the daily lesson plans over my morning coffee, and collecting all my supplies while the kids each their lunch. We have determined that it's easier for us to start school after lunch while Monster is taking his nap. At least that's the official reason. It's just a huge coincidence that it allows me to procrastinate as long as possible. I swear.
Now, if I was really all together, I would have the muffins for tomorrow's breakfast already in the oven, but I don't want to make y'all look bad. :)
Is it still Friday? I'm SO late, I'm sorry. I had a busy day and busy night, and I almost didn't post at all, but I already had a picture picked out, so here goes:
First let me apologize profusely to my dear, sweet friend who puts up with so much. (Psst- I'm fairly certain she had plastic grocery bags stuffed into those Michelin Tire sleeves. That's all I'm going to say about her while she is unable to defend herself.) And yes, I am wearing an ENTIRE. DRESS. MADE. OF. TURQUOISE. LAME'! You can't even see the shoes in this picture, but let me tell you they matched the silver pleather clutch peaking out from under my hand perfectly. As in they were also silver pleather. Silver pleather. So, not only did I have on a freaking turquoise disco ball for a dress, my shoes sent off little reflections of light so much that when my date and I passed a light fixture, we both had to cover our eyes to avoid being temporarily blinded. Oh, my poor date. That poor boy never knew what was coming. I should let him just pretend he had nothing to do with this, but he was actually quite adorable. And I need to show you the shoes.
I'm sorry, you dear man, hopefully this never gets back to you, and your wife and family don't start to question your sanity because you stuck it out and didn't run screaming into the night. (Breathe, Sara, it'll be over soon.) Look at my shoes. And oh, sweet lord, I have on flesh toned pantyhose. See, it's the little things like this that you have to block from your memory or you end up sitting in a corner, hugging your knees, and rocking back and forth.
On the plus side, my hair is good.
Can I just tell you that I couldn't lift my arms? I was afraid of tearing the dress. When Poor Date pinned my corsage on, he ripped a little hole.
So that's my Sophomore Homecoming ensemble. Once again, we didn't dance, so movement was not an issue. I'm thinking of making this holiday season all about my hideous choices in formal wear. Don't worry, I have more than enough to last for a few months. I may have posted a few already on this blog and at my Facebook, but you'll forgive me for mentally blocking out things like that, right?
Just to let you know up front, I'm writing this post whilst supervising a second grader and kindergartner home schooling, so if I slip into "A says a, a, apple" mode, I'm sorry. I'm also drinking my coffee, and trying to keep my coffee breath away from the Princess who has made it known several times she does not appreciate the smell of coffee breath. I'm a multi-tasker, watch me go!
Tia posted her high school i.d. I thought about digging out my college one because we didn't get i.d.'s in high school, but I found something better. And by better, I mean hideously mortifying to all involved.
I don't have as many old pictures scanned as I thought. I'm sorry if I've shared this picture already on my blog. This is my freshman year right before the homecoming banquet. Yes, I said banquet. Remember when I told you I went to a private Christian school? Yeah, they don't believe in dancing, so I've never learned. So does the fact that there was no dancing might make the GINORMOUS train a little less odd-looking? Please? Yeah, there's really no excuse for that stupid train. It was a hand-me-down, but I asked to wear it. My mom offered to make me a new dress (there was a dress code that made store-bought dresses nearly impossible for me), but stupid me, I asked to wear that monstrosity.
I didn't have a date that year, we went as a group of girls, and had a slumber party after the big shindig. Why am I wearing a corsage if there was no date, you ask? My daddy bought it for me. Yeah, aw, whatever.
Those glasses alone are worth their own post. They're very Sally Jesse Raphael, huh? Although you probably can't tell in the picture, they had a deep red tortoise shell pattern. Ooo baby, I was stylin'. That was my last pair of glasses. The very next year, I got contacts, got my braces off, and got a boyfriend. Coincidence? I think not.
So yeah, I spent the whole night trying to keep my train out from under other people's feet, and I loved every minute of it! It was my first formal banquet ever, and I was dressed like a princess. Teenage hormones do crazy, weird things to you.
Join in on the humiliation, I mean fun next Flashback Friday! You know you want to.