Forget the Prom; Hold a Whorefest
Today a catalog addressed to my seventeen year old son appeared in our mailbox. That he should receive a catalog of scantily clad women would probably not displease him — that is, if he were ever going to actually see it. Luckily I got to the mailbox first.
Mailing lists are annoying, especially when a decade ago someone somewhere mistyped your son’s name and an outpouring of inappropriate cataloges and ads have been arriving in his name ever since. I have a mailing list alter ego, too, but even though — judging from the intriguing name — I should get some pretty interesting junk mail, too, I don’t. Mine? Svetlana. I’ve no idea how I ever came to be Svetlana Keyman but I must admit it does have a certain mysterious behind-the-iron-curtain appeal.
Anyway, back to my son.
Since elementary school, Travis has been receiving invitations to attend Barbizon modeling school, to audition for Miss Teen America and to purchase all the cosmetics his income will allow. With any luck, however, he’ll remain too busy fighting fires with the Lititz Fire Department and battling it out on Civil War reenactment battlefields to stock up on rouge.
Of course, that was all pretty amusing. Now it’s getting edgy. Now he’s being asked to dress like a whore.
The culprit, a certain Cinderella Shoppe* of 62 West Main Street, Hershey, PA (717.838.5861) appears to believe the word prom is short for promiscuous. They are fainly sending catalogs into our community suggesting we pay them to attire our daughters (and in some cases, apparently, our sons) as high class Hollywood prostitutes. Consider page six. Here we have a gown cut so low it makes Jennifer Lopez’s choice in evening wear look virtuous. Then there’s page fourteen. This page features a little green mid-drift see-through bustier and wrap skirt combo that would not only make it appear your prom-bound daughter forgot to put on her dress, but clearly tells her date, “why waste time disrobing after post-prom when I’m already decked out in nothing more than a Hugh Hefner-approved brazier?”
Page 44 shows us a more demure gown. Unfortunately it’s sported by a model astride a golden throne — spread eagle. And if that’s not suggestive enough for you, turn to page 48. Obviously this model plans to accomodate not only her own date after post-prom, but three of his friends as well.
What I want to know is who are the mothers and fathers who will purchase these outfits for their teenage daughters? If you are out there, I want to meet you so I can see what someone who lost their moral compass actually looks like.
Let me ask you something. Are you planning to adhere a contraceptive patch to your teenage daughter’s ass as she leaves for the prom this year? If you’re dressing her like this, it might be a good idea.
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