Slice of Lime-Prom

It's that time of year when girls primp and boys strangle themselves with ties and corsage/boutonniere sales skyrocket. It's prom season. We shall commence with the old pictures and move through time to present day. Here we have young Lime when she was a junior in high school and asked to attend this young man's prom. Finances being what they were, she borrowed a frothy pink confection from a friend. It was the mid 80s after all, when froth was at its height. Please take note that Young Lime;'s hair was not at its height as she resisted baptism into the Church of Aquanet. Upon seeing this and other pictures her father could only comment on the proliferation of upper lip whiskers possessed by "the date" in spite of said date's tender age. Lime's cousin, who was an exchange student to Spain and who had found herself a Spanish boyfriend, told Young Lime half of this picture was being carried around by her Spanish boyfriend's best pal who wanted to be able to tell folks he had an American girlfriend like his amigo. I wonder if he was a better dancer than my date?

The following year I was a senior and it was time for my own prom. Mother Lime told me since I had been so thrifty the previous year she'd make me the prom gown of my choosing for my own prom. I was very grateful. Here she is hard at work on my gown.

And here is the finished product. Yes, it was the 80s so it was still covered in lace, but it lacked froth and it wasn't pink. It was a simple, strapless tea length with an A-line skirt. I was quite pleased with the work Mother Lime had done. Pity I had such rotten posture.

It is interesting to note that though my date this year was....erm...considerably older than the previous year's date, the younger guy had a better 'stache. In the words of Forest Gump, "That's all I have to say about that." Let's skip ahead shall we?

Now we come to my own Limelette and her prom. Two years ago she and her sister found my old blue prom gown and wanted to try it on. It fit them like a glove and they declared, "We never knew you were as skinny as us!" I resisted the urge to smack them and extended grace when they asked if they could wear it to their respective proms by granting permission to do so. Flash forward to earlier this year when Diana pulled it from the closet once again and discovered she could no longer wedge herself into the tiny garment. She asked Mother Lime if she'd be willing to sew her dress. If you recall, Mother Lime agreed most delightedly and a pattern and fabric were selected. Here is an early mock up made from bed sheets.

Mother Lime worked diligently and produced a fine garment. Since I bought the pattern and fabric she said she wanted to pay for the hairdresser. Last Friday Prom day arrived so we all piled in to the salon as Diana had her hair piled up. Just for a point of reference I offer a "before" picture.

After about an hour here is a midstage picture. Quite the mass of curls, no?

Finally, after another hour, 2 rubber bands, 58 bobby pins, and a gallon of hairspray, we have the completed work. We were all quite pleased even if Diana said her hair felt somewhat helmet like. It was at this point I reminded her of the advice she gave me when she was but 8 years old and I complained about something I had to endure for a semi formal occasion, "It's fashion. It has to hurt."

After a quick bite for lunch and some time primping at home we have the grand unveiling along with the seamstress.

The full effect.

The date, with nary a trace of fuzz upon his upper lip.

"The look," which has defined this child's expression for much of her life. "Would you take the last picture already so I can just get on with it???" There are those who have suggested this look is a perfect derivative of someone else they know. I can't imagine who they might mean.

Just a little closeup I thought was nice. I am happy to report, a good time was had by all.

Friday 55 & Da Count-Da Mama

FRIDAY 55
(Let G-man know if you wrote one)

She took night classes in computer technology 25 years ago.
She sat grandbabies on her lap letting them tap the keyboard.
She introduced me to chatrooms.
She got a digital camera and built her own website long before I ever blogged.
She joined Facebook and learned how to text to enter her grandchildren's world.


Mom, playing Wii with the kids after she bought and set up the system for them.

DA COUNT
(Let Lecram know what good stuff in your life you've counted.)

I've posted about my mom and what a good mom she is. Recently I was reminded of how tech savvy she is and how that fosters a closer relationship with her grandchildren than she might otherwise have. My dad recently acquired an iPhone, much to the envy of his daughter and grandchildren. He then declared he was thinking about getting an iPod. I was rather incredulous that he had no idea his phone was capable of that. We discussed other capabilities he acquired with his new gadget and I could see the smoke begin to pour from his ears as his own circuitry was overwhelmed by how much he DIDN'T know. Mind you, Dad is a very intelligent man who has embraced technology in the past, but this all seemed light years beyond him. He somewhat meekly asked for one of us to help him figure out how to use things. Meanwhile my mother has built websites from scratch (uh, yeah, she could DEFINITELY teach me a thing or two). I have to admit taking her knowledge for granted sometimes. Then I come across someone else in her generation or perhaps younger who is completely bewildered or even resistant (and I have to admit to having dwelt in that camp for a long time) and I am reminded how special and wonderful it is that she hasn't let technology contribute to a generation gap between her and my kids.

Slice of Lime-Wedding Dress Edition

On Tuesday Cooper, Susie, Breazy, and Jocelyn left comments demanding to see my wedding gown and what my bridesmaids wore since I mentioned my mother made all the dresses. Having no other actual ideas for this week's Slice of Lime I am subjecting you all to showing you the requested pictures.

First, the evidence. My mother took over my vacated bedroom to use as sewing space. The clean, empty floor was the only space big enough to lay out all the fabric and patterns. Here she's cutting out a bridesmaid dress.

My gown, my veil, a couple of bridesmaids gowns, and her own dress for the wedding, which she also made. I only asked her to make my gown. She eagerly volunteered to make the bridesmaids' gowns as well. My girls were ecstatic to only have to pay for the cost of fabric and notions. It's hard to beat $35 for a full length taffeta dress.

The finished product for Mom and me. Please keep in mind this was 1988 when hair was worn big (I never had big hair. My conscience is clear regarding the effect of Aquanet on the ozone layer.) and wedding gowns were expected to drip beading and baubles and pearls and bows and all manner of other geegaws. Fussy, complicated gowns were the style. Mine was fairly understated for the time...well, except for those linebacker shoulders. Hey, don't laugh. The Little Mermaid wore that dress a few years later. I didnt' have a flower girl or a ring bearer. They were misbehaving so as punishment I carried them inside my sleeves. Mom did a beautiful job. Everyone was happy with how their gowns fit and she actually changed the waistline on mine. It was supposed to be straight but I wanted the v-shape so she changed the pattern.

The one fussy feature about the dress was the 40 or 50 buttons that went up the back of it. Mom asked if I wanted the buttons or if she should just put a zipper in. I asked for the buttons. She covered each one in satin and hand crocheted the loops for them. That's motherly love. It took my girls a while to get me buttoned in. I had ideas as to how fun it might be having them unbuttoned later, hence my preference for buttons over a zipper. Mr. Lime did not share my thoughts on the matter. I want to further emphasize the understated design of this 80s gown. Gigantic bows on the bride's rear-end were the in thing. I opted out of that particular trend if you'll notice. My girls had very small bows atop each shoulder. My mom made enough extra bows out of scraps to go on the bases of candles on the tables at the reception. Afterward, we gathered them up and every year I put them on our Christmas tree.

So now that I am all buttoned in and bedecked in the various finery here's the fully finished product of my girls with me as my maid of honor adds the last touch. May I say the buttons are the only reason getting dressed took me more than 15 minutes. I did my own hair (single french braid down the back) and didn't wear any make-up. Heck, this was even in the days before I decided eyebrow plucking was a good idea. It was well before middle aged hormones and my Greek heritage would conspire to provide me with an upper lip in need of regular waxing. Low maintenance, baby. But I digress, I was supposed to be showing the finished product or my mom's labors.

Take note of the $9.99 Payless shoes with a half inch heel in this next shot. I do believe I have mentioned I hate high heels too. Comfort, that's what I am talking about. I guess I clean up reasonably well, but I still can't be overly formal for very long. We got married the week before Christmas. At the reception I took off my grandmother's pearl earrings and wore red Christmas ball earrings. If I knew how to photoshop in arrows and labels and stuff I'd do that but I can't so you'll have to tolerate the explanation in paragraph form. See the two older ladies looking like they might beat the crap out of anyone who tries to take the bouquet from them? Yeah, those are my great aunts. The girl in the red dress who has her hand up is my cousin. The girl in the front in the black dress with the red belt is also a cousin. They are all in a life and death struggle for that bouquet and fully intend to launch themselves at whoever catches the garter. Such is my family at a wedding. Twenty years later and the white haired, octogenarian aunt will trip you with her walker then beat you senseless to get at the bouquet. However, the winner was the slight girl in the blue dress. She promptly came over to gleefully hug me at which point one of my Christmas ball earrings pulled off its wire and found itself down her neckline and nestled in her bra. As I whirled around trying to find it she deadpanned, "It's in my bra. See? I look like I have three boobs now."

Finally, I'd be remiss in not having at least one picture showing the groom. Neither of us quite understood what the heck the photographer was trying to get us to do at this point. The pose you see is what we wound up doing spontaneously. I liked the playfulness of it.

So there you have it. My mom's mad sewing skillz on full parade nearly 20 years ago.
Thanks, Mom. You're the best!