Thursday, 1 May 2014

Oh Yea...Prom... (Thoughts While Investigating Impress and Kiss Nails*)

*Press Sample Featured


At this point in my life, I've done my share of ceremonial stage walking. Points go to kindergarten graduation where I waddled up to receive my very own Xerox certificate. I'm sure cookies followed.

By the time I hit my Masters grad, my comrades-in-tomes and I were past caring and mostly walk across the stage for the parents. Reminiscing on my ability to walk in a straight line with only the trite advice of "don't trip",  I've come to a solid conclusion. There was no more hyped up graduation ceremony than that of high school.

There's something contrived about the high school prom. Sure, receiving your diploma is a significant (and almost necessary) life marker but the real hilarity is the dinner/dance/after-prom occasion. The pervasive reach of American teenage TV glamorizes the event with the usual story lines of hookups, and drug disasters. Magazines pump out prom-related dress spreads to helpfully make your 'prom dreams' come true. Unlike most, my dreams did not revolve around which bouffant organza-ed and glittery affair (with a shawl to match, of course) I was going to wear. (On a side note, is there nothing more old lady than a shawl? I still feel weird 'shawling' a scarf to keep my delicate lady arms warm. Someone get on this fashion issue ASAP. My arms lay bare while you do.) Eventually I ended up with a comparatively low key black tulle dress with a handkerchief hemline and yellow ribbon accents.

The prom outfit extends pass the dress. My mother, (Chief Prom Outfit Coordinator) had helpfully 
booked a nail appointment for me. I cringe at the memory of my nails being buffed down to make the gel stick and of the tingling I felt under the UV while they cured. At the end of it all,  foreign plastic extensions were perma-sealed onto my finger tops. It was weird. Frickin weird. Even worse was not knowing how to remove them and realizing that popping chunks off during history class meant exposing raw buffed down nails.

Those were the thoughts I had while I examined the nail products that were sent to me. I laughed at how much I detested my done up grad nails.Their artificiality seemed only to echo the simulated grown-upness  most of us felt on prom night. At the age of 18, some of us were traipsing around with our mother's pearls and feeling very glamorous about it. But I also remember that high school, even at its worse, gave me worthwhile memories. Though I'm giving prom a lambasted treatment, it was one of those memories worth hanging on to. 

What was your prom like? How do you feel about it hindsight?
How do you feel about gel/press on nails?

Daily Zen: I'm always a big fan of functional and cleverly designed packaging. Here's a link to some funny ones.

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