Re-living my prom -- '80s style
By Leslie King
CNN Headline News
(CNN) -- It's prom night -- time for a checklist. My '80s taffeta prom dress ... check. Gigantic hair ... check. Corsage ... check. Fake ID, for those Bartles and James wine coolers ... no need, Molly Ringwald, because you're 33 years old!
I promised a follow-up on the fake prom, and it's time to deliver, complete with pictures from our scrapbook. We had everything from "Pretty In Pink" to "Some Kind of Wonderful" to "Weekend at Bernie's" ... what a great birthday party idea.
No fake prom night would be complete without the big dinner before the big dance. So the six of us decided nothing less than Steak and Ale would do. Needless to say the regular patrons of this fine establishment had no idea what to do with us. I mean what would you do if some '80s retro time warp walked into your restaurant? So after making quick work of our steak, our ale and our salad bar, we hit the main event.
'This Much is Tru-huuu'
There were two camps at the fake prom -- those who went all out, and those who were too scared to go back to the future. The posers turned up in millennium-era bridesmaid's dresses and even regular clothes rather than go retro. Boooo!
But then there were some people who really did it up, including a male Madonna. We had some serious envy factors in our favor including a pair of classic black and white checked Vans that blew away any guy's Chuck Taylors.
We had the classic tux'd up couple with taffeta electric blue dress, a Cyndi Lauper look-alike as well as Crockett and Tubbs complete with acid-wash jeans, linen blazers and loafers without socks.
 Ms. Butchley makes sure no one gets too wild at the fake prom. |  |
But the key to this crazy posse was our chaperone. Christina stole the night as Ms. Butchley, the track suit-wearing P.E. teacher whose screeching whistle and ruler kept couples at a respectable distance as they slow-danced. Everyone wanted a picture with the P.E. teacher, and I'm sure you can see why.
'Let's Go Crazy ... Let's Get Nuts'
So the king and queen of the prom have been crowned and we've killed the keg. But we can't stop now. This is the one part of the night I wish we had pictures of; just to capture the looks on people's faces. As one faction of the prom headed off to the Clermont Lounge to watch Blondie crush beer cans with her more than ample bosom (the Clermont is considered by some as the place where strippers go to die in Atlanta) -- we decided on another option.
We took our retro vibe to an apple-martini-serving, trance-music-playing hipster club to see what happened. I still can't believe we made it past the bouncer. We looked like fools. We were determined, and we shut that place down. Crockett and Tubbs made sure we got home without getting hurt, and then zoomed off into the night with their wives in their white ... taxi.
