So it’s 7:30am and I’m on the subway headed downtown to meet PIC at his office. I’ve gotten up early to go to the gym because after being laid up for the past month, I’m feeling more beluga whale than bridal these days, and the wedding is less than four months away so it is time to get serious.
Across from me, a high school girl is demanding of her friends, “Did you guys get my group text? Do you want to go to Hibachi the day before Valentine’s Day?”
They all suddenly remember the text. “Oh yeah!” They tell her. “Yeah that would be cute.”
The first girls continues, “So do we want Hibachi or Capital Grill?”
Before they can reach a consensus, the conversation veers off to the subject of prom gowns.
The first girl, obviously frustrated, says, “I keep telling my mom ‘I’m only gonna be wearing the dress for one day. Why should we spend so much money on a dress?'”
Evidently her sister’s prom gown cost $4,000 and her mother wants her to follow suit.
As they debate the merits of shoulder straps, teal vs. red and whether or not spending $4,000 on a prom gown is a good idea, I feel compelled to lean over and impart some big sisterly wisdom. After all, if you overlook the Ugg boots, the Catholic school girl uniform and the fact that this girl is actually talking to her friends, not sitting in the corner reading a book like the quiet girl next to her, she is basically me.
And she needs to know that she is right: she is only going o wear that dress one time. Spending $4,000 on a prom gown is ridiculous and her mother is a moron.
And as for her friends? The ones who can’t be bothered to RSVP and still can’t make up their minds between Hibachi and Capital Grill?
I want to tell her to get used to it, that if she is the organizer of her friends now, she always will be, and they’re never going to RSVP and their never going to make up their minds and it will be up to her to do things if she wants them to get done.
She needs to know, from someone who’s been there, that’s it’s gonna be alright. That Valentine’s dinners are never everything they’re cracked up to be. And that prom gowns really aren’t the end of the world and that I, as a full-fledged, home owning, soon-to-married adult, am in the perfect position to give her some advice.
Then again I’m the idiot who locked myself out of said house this morning on my way to sign up at the gym, and am on my way to fiancé’s office to get his key so I can get back in.
Maybe I’m not in the greatest position to be offering advice right now.