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| Fiddle-dee-dee |
E. Boyer
They arrived. In the mailboxes of young women around the East Bay, the Hill Branch invitations to the Debutante (a.k.a. Winter) Ball arrived. For some, an invitation was expected. Their sisters, mothers and possibly Grandmothers were invited and not receiving an invitation would be horrifically devastating to the entire family lineage, forever altering it’s place in the annals of history. The Debutante Ball is a charitable event. It benefits children’s Hospital and has raised over 4 million dollars over the years. What began as the presenting of a family’s marriage-ready daughters, has become a valuable means of drawing attention to a very worthy cause. My hat is off and I’m humbled by the effort and dedication put forth by those who carry on the tradition. Having said that, I must also say that, it all seems…well…ridiculous. When I hear the words “Debutante Ball” what comes to mind is Scarlet O’Hara having her corset tightened to the point of asphyxiation, wondering what the fiddle-de-de all the fuss is about. I understand the significance of tradition but, couldn’t we update this event…just a little? Let’s start with the men’s attire. Is it me, or is there something silly and just a titch sad about seeing a grown man in white gloves and tails? It has a way of ripping the testosterone right off of a guy. Let’s face it, unless you’re James Bond, it’s impossible to pull-off this look. In fact, James Bond knew better than anyone the value of the classic black tux…sometimes, less really is more. And then there are the evening gowns. I feel silly just saying “evening gown.” But, this phrase at least takes us off the plantation at Tara and in to the lobby of the Bolshoi Ballet. Ginger Rogers and Fred Astaire also come to mind. Only, the guidelines state “no strapless and no sparkles.” No sparkles?!? I have to believe that even the stuffiest of ballet goers would appreciate the value of properly placed “sparkle” on an evening gown. Ginger would undoubtedly find this guideline unacceptable. For heaven’s sake, after forking over $4,000 for the privilege of attending, you’d think a girl would be allowed a little sparkle! Naturally, we couldn’t come this far without mentioning the curtsey. It’s not just any ‘ole curtsey. In my house we’ve given this curtsey the name “Double Supported Wedding Cake Ornament Curtsey.” Seriously, look at the photos and it’ll all make sense to you. But, the most puzzling part of it all is the parading around of our nubile, young daughters in what I call the “Circle of Virgins.” (Again, please refer to photos.) This is the part of the evening where all the Debs stand in an outward-facing circle for all to admire. Good Lord. Why not just hang a sign around their lovely, little necks that says “Peak of Fertility. All Wealthy, Male Land Owners Please Apply.” Bring in the auctioneer and let the bidding begin! Have we no shame? We’ve spent the last 18 years preaching independence and self-sufficiency, blah, blah, blah, and now we throw them into a “Who’s the Fairest Of Them All” spectacle. Is this really necessary? Why has this event not been updated? Fiddle-dee-dee, where is Gloria Steinhem when we need her?
