Monday, August 23, 2010

High School Dance

I have always loved to dance, beginning with tap lessons then everything from 'Lambeth Walk' of the '30s to 'Jitterbug' of the 40's.  My paternal grandmother talked about "dancing all night" as a young girl so I guess it's in my genes.  Needless to say, I made sure I had a date for every dance held during my four years of high school. 

Material to make a formal meant saving up my baby-sitting money and later my small paycheck from being a 'soda jerk' at Hull House on Garey Avenue in Pomona.  I almost missed getting invited to one dance after having an argument with my current boyfriend.  Fortunately we made up the day before the dance.  What to do about a formal?  I'll tell you how that problem was solved.
         
My Uncle Jack, a US Marshall in Santa Monica, just happened to come by that crucial evening.  "No problem."  He drove me all the way from Pomona to Pasadena (with lights and siren, over-the-speed-limit) and we got in the department store just before closing.  He selected my size formal:  black jersey top with white net full skirt and we drove back home much safer of course.  Didn't cost me a cent - gift from my Uncle Jack. I was asked to try it on right away and it fit perfectly.  Mother was not all that pleased.
          
"Jean, you cannot wear that low 'V' neckline at your age."  She began pinning the opening higher and then creating a 'sweetheart' shape by gathering at the sides of the opening.  By now I was covered nearly up to my chin.  Needless to say it was either wear the more discrete neckline or forget the dance.  So, I danced the next night in my demure black/white gown and decided that dancing feet were more important than the shape of a neckline.
         
There were many dances from sophomore through senior years and I didn't miss even one.  In order to afford the new, different gown for every dance (you simply could not wear the same gown twice) I was lucky to have a mother who knew how to sew.  Gowns sent to me from my older cousin were altered to fit.  The ones mother created were designed to be cut to dress length and do double duty. 

Once I became adept to making my own clothes, I chose fabrics such as corduroy rather than velvet so that a sleeveless gown was easily converted into a jumper to be worn over a blouse or sweater.  Certainly there were much more lavish gowns worn by other girls at the dances, but none were better sewn and fitted.  None were created as cost effective as mine.
         
None of my friends knew that I had often been literally sewn into my gown at the last minute.  This entailed having mother cut me out of the gown when I returned home from the dance before midnight.  A routine that stands out in my memory as delightful.  Mother was always there to listen to every detail of the evening of dance. I believe she lived her teen years through me.  Her last dance had been at the age of 16 due to Polio.  She never talked about that, but really seemed to support and enjoy my love of dancing.
     

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