The Three Dresses

(Names have been changed to protect the delightful)

So I love southern ladies, to be more specific mature southern ladies who reminisce fondly on yesteryear.  I have been privileged that in the last three places I’ve lived there has been such a gem as a neighbor.   What is most delightful is that they are all from different parts of south and bring their own southern flare to their stories. There was Ms. Florence from Baton Rouge who had a delightful Louisiana accent and was a former Debutante. She lived in my apartment complex, and gave me the most lovely house warming gift when I moved…Waterford…I used to watch her cat while when she went back home to visit her grandchildren. Then there was Ms. Mary Kathryn who actually lived down the street from me. She was runner up for Miss Alabama in 19??. Then there was Ms. Beverly who was  a former singer here in Georgia , who introduced herself to me during squirrel-gate ( she thought I was killing the squirrels with some poison she “saw” me lay down… It was grass fertilizer-God bless her heart).  What I find funny is that none of these delightfully witty ladies would ever allow me to call them Mrs. (insert last name)… they told me that was their mother-in-law and they were dead and they no desire to neither visit them nor take their title in the near future. What else can you say to that but yes ma’am, even though they were all in the “icing years” as a my grandmother would say ( three scores plus ten… the rest is just icing).  Which is weird because in the African American culture, and some places in the south, it’s  Mr.  and Mrs.  if they are 5 minutes older than you.  But I digress.

A few months back it was prom season, and I was out mowing my grass when my neighbor, the singer came out for a conversation (the squirrels were still absent).   “It is prom season!” she acclaimed, and as a school teacher I was well aware of Prom season and knew it primarily because it fell on my birthday weekend and I had to chaperone (TRAGIC).  Since obviously, to her horror, I did not show the appropriate amount of excitement she then told me the story of the three dresses. It goes something like this:

Now Isaiah, I know you are a man but EVERYONE knows that there are three important dresses in every pretty southern ladies life.  You need to know this incase you have daughters.

Oh?  I said knowing that this was going to lead into one of the stories that I love so much. “But what if they are less than attractive?”

Less than attractive? (Gasp of Horror)  Well in reference to a southern lady there is no such thing! Why even saying pretty southern lady is redundant, we only say it to distinguish the Yankee transplants without being rude.  But as I was saying, there are three important dresses and they actually build on one another. There is your prom dress your first real gown, its important because it is the first time a southern lady should look like a real princess ( if you discount all religious occasions).  Then you build on that with your debutante dress.  The key is to be stunning and not have it look like a wedding dress… because people will talk, and then the only other time you are in a white dress: You’re wedding.  Where if you don’t look like royalty you have failed. 

I couldn’t help but bait her some more, “well what if they don’t get married?”

 In that case, let’s just hope the first two dresses were really pretty.  Well enjoy your day.

With that she went to check her mail, and walked back inside her home.  I promptly went inside died laughing then I made a mint julep.