Prom-atron!

I’m in my final year at school and prom, like a marvelled cheetah, is fast approaching. FAST. Amidst the mass of hairstyles, make up, and- duh- dresses, the sheer volume of glitzy things to sort out can be overwhelming. But we feed off the drama, and it’s partly why we love it so much.

However, amongst the mist of hairspray and diamonds, prom is not what it seems. Despite beliefs, prom is not the pink, sparkly froth on top of the champagne. It’s not the finishing shine of the diamonds scattered across every nail, every dress, every dream. In reality, prom is so much more...

Prom is bitchy. It’s the underlying hate that represents the image us girls feel we have to follow. The sheer panic in thinking- god forbid- that someone may turn up in the same dress as you. That’s prom.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying for one second that I’m not as excited as all the other 5 foot, screeching clones we call girls these days. Hah, more like a vicious, ready-to-kill prom-a-saurus. I really am. I just seem to be the only one, at my school at least, who can see past the froth, past the sparkle, and into the darker heart of prom. See the bitch that prom is. The way it makes the knot in your stomach which many mistake for excitement and anticipation, but really is the fearful need to look like the prettiest, peachiest, princess.  

I for one refuse to be sucked in to the drama.

Pulled in to the hate.

Indoctrinated to the other side.

Saying that, I’m off to chose a dress. Wish me luck ;)...