Forgive me if this post is a literary disaster; I just finished the last of my AP tests today, and I don’t really want to think anymore.
I allowed my thoughts about my Fashion Show to distill for a couple days, and now I’m finally ready to write about the whole shebang in lucid detail. THE EVENT WAS COOL. I HAD FUN. FASHION IS FUN.
Just kidding. (But really, I’m tempted to leave it at that because of how vacuous my mind feels right now.)
For those of you who weren’t present at the function, it’s an event that my charity group puts on every year to honor the graduating seniors. The show consists of a really super uber long Rose Presentation and then a Fashion Show in which the seniors are the models. The Rose Presentation is very similar to the ceremony in the Evergreen Ball, except a tad bit more personal– there is a slideshow of pictures of each girl, for which we got to pick the pictures and the accompanying song. There’s also a voiceover speech written to our family, and it plays when we slowly walk down the runway in the ball gown. I guess this part is supposed to be sentimental and tear-provoking to the parents and the girl, or to anyone in the audience who is especially sensitive to a seventeen-year-old girl’s affectionate utterances of her family. While a lot of the girls got tearful during their presentations, I, for one, felt no impulse towards lachrymosity. Number one, I’d heard my own speech before and didn’t need to cry about its poetic merit, and number two, why would I want to spoil my perfect makeup before the fashion show?
Ah, the fashion show. Good times, good times. Albeit a frustrating slew of rehearsals led up to the performance, I can safely say that all the practicing was worth it. Exhausted and irked, I exited each Monday rehearsal at 10 PM with aching arches and an unpleasant attitude brought on by the burden of the schoolwork I hadn’t yet completed. The last thing I wanted to do on my Monday nights was rehearse my model walk for four hours in a church auditorium, but unfortunately those four-inch stilettos weren’t going to learn to walk themselves. Now that I know everything turned out okay (and that the valuable studying hours I lost on those nights didn’t seriously hamper my school performance), it’s easy to look back and recognize that we needed those weekly hours of preparation in order for the fashion show to proceed as well as it did on Saturday. I’m grateful that those rehearsals were thrust upon us so forcibly, because how else would we have been that awesome during the real thing? It was so fulfilling to blow that last kiss to the audience and to know that we rocked the stage with poise and panache.
Expect more frequent posting soon– I think I’ll have more time to write since school is coming to a close. I’m going to try writing less about me and more about other stuff (musica? movies? literature?). The possibilities are simply infinite!
*Title: “Thirteen” by Big Star