My niece went to her high school prom this weekend. She goes every year. Apparently the whole school does. It all seems very democratic, but don’t you kind of miss that feral atmosphere where only the really popular were sure they would be going to the prom? For the rest of us, it was just survival of the fittest all the way.

I have to smile when I look at photos from my own prom-going history. My brother is going to kill me for this, but here we are with our respective dates, just before the Roy C. Ketcham High School senior prom in June 1977. I was only a junior, but my boyfriend was a senior. Check it out. I’m in peach and my date is in a lovely beige tux with a peach-ruffled shirt. We definitely worked together on the color scheme.

I don’t remember the name of my brother’s date, but it looks like we might have coordinated colors ahead of time, too. We didn’t. We both have typically 70s hairstyles. I’ve got the super-straight Marcia Brady look, while what’s-her-name is obviously going for the Farrah Fawcett feathered ‘do. The dress I’m wearing is actually the same dress I made for my junior prom, but I cleverly removed the long sleeves. I wonder if anyone noticed. This photo does not do justice to the print on my brother’s tux, by the way. And don’t even get me started on those bow ties!