#GirlsShitToo

The Importance of Revision

The Monday after I posted my vlog, I noticed that there was a petition going around change.org called "Down with the Dress Code at the Crystal Shore High School Prom." Adree had started it, and it had already garnered 200 signatures, some from people who didn't even go to Crystal Shore, including my stepdad Roy.

"You're going to prom," said Adree in English. "So go shopping for that pantsuit."

I smiled at her, although I felt confused. Sure, she had started that petition so that I could wear a pantsuit, but that didn't mean she wanted to go with me.

Towards the end of class, the intercom came on. I was half expecting Runsberger to tell me to come to his office, but instead he said, "The nominations for King are as follows: Chad Anderson, Seth Valer, and Dennis Hepler. The nominations for queen are: Valerie Devant, Gabby Mason, and Adree Richards."

Valerie and Adree both walked towards each other, grabbed each other's arms, and started jumping up and down and screaming. I clapped for them both, wondering if any animosity existed underneath their excitement. If Valerie was smaring, it was heavy on the smile. They actually looked like they did in that picture Valerie had posted of them—happy, and like good friends. And pretty. Especially Adree, who attracted me harder than the neodymium magnet my chemistry teacher owned. Ugh.

The next morning, the Los Angeles Times had an article about Adree's and my efforts to get the principal to change the dress code, including discussion of various other student-led attempts to change dress codes at their own schools. The author wrote that they had reached out to Mr. Runsberger for comment, and he had yet to get back to them. It was the same journalist who wrote the other article about Runsberger's folly. This time, she'd gotten ahold of Adree, who said, "I don't think it's fair that Dallas should be forced to wear a dress if she wants to come to prom, because that means she won't come to prom. I mean, this isn't the 60s."

I expected Runsberger to call me into his office that day, and my expectation was quickly met. Strutting into his office, I said, "Why, hello. Miss me?"

"No."

"You know, I didn't start that petition."

"But you instigated it."

"So what? Is petitioning against the principal a level two offense or something?"

"Unfortunately, not. But I would like to serve up my own personal form of punishment. Draft a new dress code, and I'll look over it and approve it. Then we can move on from what I find to be a very unnecessary interruption to end-of-school proceedings."

I wanted to tell him the punishment actually excited me, but I was afraid he would change his mind. So I sighed, pretending like revising the dress code was the last thing I wanted to do, then said, "Can't I just write, 'wear whatever you want?'"

"So that we can expect some of your peers to turn up in their birthday suits? No. Dresswear still needs to be appropriately fitting and modest and formal."

"Can I use your computer? I'm much more efficient at typing. I'm like a cyborg. My brain is dependent on a keyboard."

Surprisingly, he actually got up and gestured for me to sit down. "Go on Word only, Mizz Delaney."

So I found the Word file containing the dress code, and began revising it, spending ten minutes revising, five minutes letting Runsberger read the thing, and another ten minutes negotiating with him. Then I finally printed it out, after submitting some quick changes he hadn't exactly approved, telling him that I would go hang it on the bulletin board.

He didn't say thank you for my time or effort or anything, so I said, "You know, Runsberger, if things were different between us, I feel like I could really be one of your dudebros. You know, come in here all the time, sit at your desk, help you with stuff. Cuss without you caring."

He cocked his head and smirked. "I'm surprised at how many people nominated you for queen and king."

"Queen and king?"

"Yes. It's too bad that all of your nominations under 'king' didn't count towards your total nominations number. Nominees for king are supposed to be male, you see."

I shrugged. "Doesn't matter to me. Why would I want to be prom royalty?"

Frowning like he was disappointed in my lack of care, he said, "Yes. Why would you want that when you can post some silly video and have thousands of anonymous viewers praise you for nothing?"

I smirked right back at him, bade him farewell, and went to the bulletin board, admiring the new dress code as soon as I'd pinned it up. He would hate me for it.

Revised Crystal Shore High School Prom Dress Code

Created by Dallas Delaney, Yours Truly <3

Human Students:

Dresswear, including accessories and shoes, should be formal, appropriately fitting, and modest.

What does this all mean?

It's complicated. What these words mean is up for negotiation, and the meanings are often in the eye of the beholder, AKA the person passing out dress code violations/turning away prom-goers. So here is a helpful guide to help you to try to figure out if you are meeting our school's expectations for "formal, appropriately fitting, and modest."

Formal:

Dresswear should look very nice. Questions you might ask yourself on prom night include: "Does it look like I slept in a dumpster?" or "Would I be turned away from Crystal Shore Sushi, where Jack Nicholson dines, for wearing this?" If you answered yes to either of these questions, your dresswear might not be formal enough. And remember, it needs to look very nice. That means that even if it is just "nice," it isn't nice enough. If you would wear it to school on a regular day, then it probably isn't formal enough...unless you're one of those people who always "dresses for success" by wearing suits or dresses regularly.

Appropriately Fitting:

Dresswear should not be too tight or too loose. If it's so tight that you're suffocating, it's probably too tight. If it's so loose that you're falling out of it, it's probably too loose.

Modest:

Hems and slits of dresses and skirts must not be two inches above the knee. (Note: I really wanted to change this, because this rule literally does not make sense given that human torsos and legs are all various sizes, but Runsberger wouldn't let me. Whatevs. Just follow this rule so you don't have to wear that shame garb, mmmkay?)

Tops of dresses and shirts must not have any cuts that are considered too low. Mr. Runsberger says this means that if you take a ribbon and tie it around your chest, with the ribbon going just under your armpits, then the cuts should not go below this ribbon. These "cuts" include necklines and backlines, and even armpit holes (who knew?). (This one's for you too, dudes! If ladies can't expose the skin below their "traditional bra line," then, in the name of fairness, neither can you.)

Dresswear must not expose midriffs (this means bellies, peeps).

No birthday suits. (This means don't show up naked. This is very important to Mr. Runsberger.)

*If you might find yourself at prom wearing dresswear that a staff member or chaperone deems informal, inappropriately fitting, or immodest, then come prepared with an argument for why you disagree, along with threats to take your argument to social media.