Today when we walked into the chapel for Sacrament meeting, I noticed two things: One was the number of young men and women in formal wear and the other was the alluring smell of white cake in the air. If you know me, you know which one was the more interesting to me. (Here's a hint--I'm a sugar addict.)
After I thought through the possibility that it might be Mother's Day, or a new holiday in honor of early-switch-from-Daylight-Savings, I realized that there was probably no dessert in my near future. So I turned my attention to the Prom dresses. It was interesting to see that more young men than young women from our ward had gone to Prom. At least, I counted four tuxes and only two ball gowns.
Can I say that I still think it's weird that there is this tradition here in Utah to wear your Prom clothes to Church the day after? I mean, sure they're expensive and you normally only get to wear them once, but they are a little flashy for Sunday worship. One was FUCHSIA with a huge tulle skirt, and the other was cut DOWN front and back--and inadequately disguised with a loosely draped wrap. (Here is the too-low-cut dress.)
I tried to contain my judgementality by sketching some lovely future prom dresses for my daughter--I do believe you can be stylish, attractive, and modest at the same time. Because I can't really draw they ended up looking like something I knew my daughters would never want to wear. But for fun I told them they would get to have high-necked, long sleeved dresses made of wool. Or poison. (That's so boys can look but not touch.)
After the meeting I followed both Prom dresses up the stairs for choir practice. The smell of cake was so strong, I remarked on it out loud. That's when FUCHSIA informed me that it was the other girl's perfume. Other girl then said, "It's called "Sugar Cookie.""
I sat next to her during choir practice so I had half an hour to ponder the effect of that dress combined with that smell on any normal teenage boy. At some point I said to the girl, "I imagine that scent is really effective." Her reply?: "Oh, yeah!" I twitched with the impulse to jump out of my chair and go tell her date's mom.
By the time my son hits high school, I hope they've developed portable sensory deprivation chambers. 'Cause that's the only way he's going to Prom.