Mom on the Run: Dad reaches a prom dress epiphany

Lianne Wilkens/Columnist
Published: April 13, 2008

My husband and I are standing at the kitchen sink, doing separate chores but together and able to talk for the first time today.

"So how did it go?" I know what he means—prom dress shopping. My daughter and I traveled all over northern Virginia today looking at dresses—a long-planned, very big deal.

"Well, we didn't buy anything." I tell him, cutting to the chase. "Um, how much did you plan to spend on this dress?" He and I hadn't had a budget conversation before we headed out, and now that I've had a dose of reality, I need to check in.

"Oh, I don't know," he says, shrugging. "I don't know how much dresses cost. You tell me." "OK," I say, and I take a breath. "She tried on probably 20 dresses today. The most expensive cost $490 and the cheapest was about $150. The one she likes is on sale, it's $100 off, but it's still $400."

"Four hundred dollars? For a dress?" My husband stops, turns, stares. "And how many times will she wear this dress?" I very nearly laugh, but, "Once. You really can't wear it again." "Once?" His mouth starts to gape but then he folds it up into a hard line instead. "What else? Because you have to buy more than just a dress, right?"

"Oh, yeah. She'll have to get her hair done, and then there's a manicure and a pedicure, though she could just do her own nails. Probably some jewelry. Shoes, for sure. And I guess a little purse."

"All that?" I can see him adding. "Can you rent dresses? Like guys rent tuxes?" He's grasping here, but I don't blame him. "Well," I say, "I've read about renting dresses, but I don't know if there's a place around here. And I don't think she'd go for it." I know our daughter, she'd be horrified at renting a dress, and I can hear her squeal now: "But somebody already wore it!"

"What's so special about the $400 dress?" he asks. And after 20 dresses and five hours, I sure know the answer: "Most of the dresses are narrow and slinky. She doesn't like those, she wants one with a poufy skirt. There are two she likes at a boutique in Fairfax. The one she really, really likes is coral, which isn't a good color for her, and the other one is light blue, the color she wanted, but she doesn't like that design as much."

"And those are both $400?" He looks at me, and I nod. "We found some beautiful dresses for $200 to $250, but they weren't what she wanted."

"Because they don't have poufy skirts?"

I nod.

"She says they make her feel pretty."

"Feel pretty?" My husband's eyes glaze over; I see him weighing: money—which is "just" money, but still something we have only in limited quantities—versus his only daughter feeling pretty. At prom.

He drops his head into his hands and mutters, "Shoot me." I pat him on the back sympathetically. After five hours and no dress, I know his pain.

Lianne Wilkens lives with her family in Manassas. She can be reached at .