If you want your middle-school grandchild to laugh out loud, just tell her that school dances were called "sock hops" or "get-acquainted" dances when you were a kid. At least, that is what happened to me the other day when I was driving Hattie to basketball practice and decided to take the opportunity to talk about her upcoming first dance. I was curious to know how the whole boy/girl social scene had changed since I was a pre-teen. I explained that we called our dances sock hops because we actually danced in the gym in our stocking feet, although I admitted that I didn't remember much hopping.
"In my day" stories, though, get me nowhere and are likely to stop the easy dialog Hattie and I have always enjoyed. Once Hattie stopped laughing at the image of me "hopping" at a sock hop, we talked about her dress for the dance. Hattie and I had already discussed where to look for the perfect dress so I'd been keeping my eyes open anytime I was in a department store. That is how I learned that current fancy-dress styles seem more appropriate for senior formals than gatherings of under-developed 11- and 12-year olds.
Hattie extolled the virtues of a black-and-red dress she had spied in a display window at the mall. It had a ruffled strap across one shoulder (the other shoulder was bare); a wide sparkly belt; and a straight mid-thigh length skirt. She planned to use a birthday gift card to purchase black heels and an ornate rhinestone necklace to complete the ensemble. Heels and rhinestone jewelry, in the sixth-grade? It was a good thing I was driving so Hattie couldn't see my expression. But I reminded myself that strapless dresses with sparkly necklaces are what the stores are selling and what the girls want to wear, and kept my fashion opinions to myself.
Today's Rules
By letting her talk, I discovered happily that regardless of the dress code, good manners were still in fashion. Hattie explained the rules. If a boy asks a girl to dance, she must accept and when he takes her back to her seat, she should say "thank you." That applies to all the boys, whether she likes them or not. Parents were required to pick up their own child unless alternative plans were made beforehand, and teachers would chaperone.
Most of the time, though, girls danced with each other and all but a few gregarious boys watched from the sidelines.
On the big night, Hattie and five friends gathered after school to dress for the dance. Earlier in the day, the moms had dropped off clothes, shoes, makeup, and all the paraphernalia for turning natural hair into luxurious tresses fit for a Vidal Sassoon commercial. My daughter and another mom stayed, just to observe, since the girls really wanted to help each other.
These young gals are so much more adept with make-up and hair than I was at their age. I thought of my poor sister's straight hair and the endless Toni home permanent waves she had to endure. Hattie's dress was not the black-and-red one but a soft shimmering teal color of soft folds. It was strapless and above the knee but not too short. Most of the girls wore black. The school had mandated that shoulders be covered with a sweater or shrug.
Something That Never Changes
A week later, when Hattie and I were together again in the car, I asked how the dance went. She spoke enthusiastically about her friends and how they encouraged each other as they shared curling irons and makeup. Hattie was pleased that two of her friends wanted her to help them apply eye shadow and mascara. The dresses, and the girls, came in all sizes and shapes, but they all complimenting each other's style.
I may continue to think that strapless dresses are inappropriate for eleven-year-olds, but under those sparkling fashions that show too much skin is a group of kind, considerate, budding young women learning how to form solid friendships – not so different from the 1950s. I was reminded of my own grandmother's words: "It's what's inside that really counts." I am proud of Hattie's good manners and choice of friends, and she did look beautiful in the photographs.
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