IT'S THE WEEKEND: Teenage KIcks - Prom dilemmas by Duffryn pupil Taylor Simpson

South Wales Argus: Leader of Newport County Council Bob Bright visited Duffryn High School following a recent positive Estyn inspection report.  Pictured is pupil Taylor Simpson. (6081489) Leader of Newport County Council Bob Bright visited Duffryn High School following a recent positive Estyn inspection report. Pictured is pupil Taylor Simpson. (6081489)

THE prom should be the greatest time of your life. I can only think of one word to describe it: amazing. I started looking for prom dresses when I was in Year 7, that’s how excited I was for that one night. It’s quite ridiculous really, but that was me. There are lots of things a girl has to think about in the run up to her Year 11 prom. Here are some of my main worries.

I changed my mind on prom dresses at least seven times; I just couldn’t find the dress I imagined myself in. All I wanted was a long, black, plain dress. Personally, I don’t think that’s too much to ask for. Finally, I found my plain, long black dream dress. Beautiful. When I was looking for the right dress, all my mum would say is “Find something you’re comfortable in”.

To my annoyance, she was right. During prom, all you could see was girls pulling their dresses up or sitting down while everyone else was dancing. If I were you, I would look for a dress that has the minimum of fuss.

My prom date was a pain in the backside. He changed his mind like a light switch. “Tay, I don’t know if I can go with you.” Or “I don’t like your dress”. All he did was moan. He told me twice that we weren’t going together, then two weeks before changed his mind again. Typical boy I say! I should have made my own mind up and gone with the girls, much more fun.

My prom hair was a weird style compared to the other girls. All the girls had very pretty, girly hairstyles. Then there was my hair; talk about different! It sort of looked like a beehive on my head but I loved it. Me, I don’t like being the same as everyone else. I like to be different and original. At the prom, you have to go with your own style and what you feel best with. Don’t worry about what anyone else thinks.

I would do prom all over again. I loved it that much. Being with your friends, dancing, laughing, having a brilliant time. It was quite emotional as well, considering you may not see most of your year group again. I can assure you that, whatever your hair, dress or make up, you’ll have a fantastic time! So, the choice is yours: are you going to go or not?

Comments (2)

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4:54pm Sun 25 May 14

Katie Re-Registered says...

The *prom* is a particularly cruel, fundamentally needless American import; the heterosexist and gender normative character of which often turns out to impact particularly hard on gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgender and non-binary gender conforming students - particularly when an educational establishment has different dress codes for students based on sexist stereotypes of femininity and masculinity. Take for instance, the recent case of the female US student who was expelled for wearing a tuxedo to her school's prom. Btw..thought Brit schools were supposed to be fighting sexism and standing up for 'gender diversity' these days - instead of slavishly following small town America's artificially constructed sexist gender norms?
The *prom* is a particularly cruel, fundamentally needless American import; the heterosexist and gender normative character of which often turns out to impact particularly hard on gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgender and non-binary gender conforming students - particularly when an educational establishment has different dress codes for students based on sexist stereotypes of femininity and masculinity. Take for instance, the recent case of the female US student who was expelled for wearing a tuxedo to her school's prom. Btw..thought Brit schools were supposed to be fighting sexism and standing up for 'gender diversity' these days - instead of slavishly following small town America's artificially constructed sexist gender norms? Katie Re-Registered
  • Score: 1

11:39am Tue 27 May 14

-trigg- says...

Back in my day we had a school disco if we were lucky. We dressed smartly but we certainly didn't go out to buy clothes just for the occasion and never to be work again.

There was none of this American-inspired angst over "dates" or asking people to go with you, you just turned up in the school hall and congregated with the same group of friends you spent time with at school normally.

After a little while, some obscure branch of quantum physics would lead to the boys all standing on one side of the room, with the girls grouped on the other, separated by the no-man's-land of the dance floor, whilst an aged DJ and a few teachers attempted to persuade pupils to cross that dread divide.

If you were lucky, there was a buffet table against the back wall, complete with invisible truce flag fluttering overhead that allowed tentative conversations with the opposite sex (not that we thought of sex in those days of course) to take place over plastic cups of flat supermarket cola and stale fairy cakes.

Eventually, after a couple of hours the DJ would put on a couple of slow songs and the very bravest would venture across the minefield and ask a young lady to join them for a dance. Acceptance meant standing in the middle of the floor, awkwardly grasping your chosen partner whilst spinning around slowly and swaying in time to the music. Rejection meant a hasty retreat to the circle of mockery that you previously called your friends.

Those were the days!
Back in my day we had a school disco if we were lucky. We dressed smartly but we certainly didn't go out to buy clothes just for the occasion and never to be work again. There was none of this American-inspired angst over "dates" or asking people to go with you, you just turned up in the school hall and congregated with the same group of friends you spent time with at school normally. After a little while, some obscure branch of quantum physics would lead to the boys all standing on one side of the room, with the girls grouped on the other, separated by the no-man's-land of the dance floor, whilst an aged DJ and a few teachers attempted to persuade pupils to cross that dread divide. If you were lucky, there was a buffet table against the back wall, complete with invisible truce flag fluttering overhead that allowed tentative conversations with the opposite sex (not that we thought of sex in those days of course) to take place over plastic cups of flat supermarket cola and stale fairy cakes. Eventually, after a couple of hours the DJ would put on a couple of slow songs and the very bravest would venture across the minefield and ask a young lady to join them for a dance. Acceptance meant standing in the middle of the floor, awkwardly grasping your chosen partner whilst spinning around slowly and swaying in time to the music. Rejection meant a hasty retreat to the circle of mockery that you previously called your friends. Those were the days! -trigg-
  • Score: 2

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