Hell Yes to The Dress!

I knew it the minute I tried it on: A tea length strapless number in cream satin overlaid in lace, bearing the label of Jessica McClintock, the epitome of 1980s fashion. 

With its cleavage-heaving bodice and massive bow, it gave me exactly the look I was going for, which is to say, about to jump out of a cake in a Whitesnake video.

Finding the perfect prom dress felt like a long-awaited vindication for an awkward adolescence (I had braces for TEN years, OK?) Though it cost more than I’d saved babysitting some neighborhood monsters and working the concession stand at basketball games, my dad generously made up the difference. Mom lent me Bubbe’s pearls and insisted on having my pointy pumps dyed to match. 

I saw tears in their eyes as they handed me off to my date, probably relieved that their little loudmouthed weirdo had reached this highly normal rite of passage. (Like some main character out of a Sweet Valley High novel, I’d caught the eye of the captain of the wrestling team after the braces came off senior year. Mike Wolfe, you will be forever remembered as a real mensch.)

These days kids eschew such old-fashionedy heteronormative narratives and attend prom in throuples and gaggles or proudly alone, though no matter who you’ve got on your arm, gussying up costs a helluva lot more. “Promflation” is a real term used by economists, and the price tag for the evening’s accouterments can surpass a $1000 if you don’t have mad sewing skills á la Pretty in Pink (Be honest, did we really love Molly Ringwald’s repurposed potato sack anyway?)

No one looks good in a drop waist, amirite?

Fortunately for Savannah high schoolers, this year there’s no need to spend a fortune or shred up a thrift store score (unless they want to; this year’s Junk 2 Funk lewks slayed.) 

A few months ago, public school teacher Carolina Braunschweig came upon a windfall of gorgeous formals on the local Buy Nothing page and had the grand idea of giving them away for prom season. While living in California, the Miami native had donated a couple of cute castoffs to the The Princess Project, a non-profit that provides thousands of dresses a year to young fashionistas whose tastes exceed their means. She figured, why not here?