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PRESS
ADULTS GET TO REDO PROMS MONTREAL — The high school prom season is approaching and university student Julie Alsop is picking out a dress. Two years ago, she flew solo at her high school prom after a friend bailed on her at the last minute. But thanks to a Montreal pseudo prom for adults, Alsop is getting another shot at the big night. “I found out a week before that he was going with someone else, so it was too late to get another date,” she said. “I suppose this is a redo for me.” Grown-ups looking to rekindle — or bury — high-school prom memories will dust off old dresses, buy corsages and sway to Sinead O’Connor this graduation season. As this year’s crop of high-school grads scrambles to finalize glitzy plans for the prom, mature partygoers with fewer inhibitions say they now know what it takes to have the night of their life. “You get to re-enact an old trauma and have a happy ending,” said Sherwin Tjia, co-organizer of Slow Dance Prom, which unfolds Friday in Montreal. “Basically, it’s high school with a happy ending.” From the spinning mirror ball, to the $2 condom corsages, to the cheesy backdrop of the photo booth, the shindig will feel almost like the real thing, he said. The event is one in an “almost monthly” series of slow dance parties created last fall by Tjia and friend Amber Goodwyn. “Some people have told us that they’ve danced more at one slow dance (party) than they had in their entire high school life,” said Tjia, a poet and painter. He compares the dances to speed dating, except you can feel how prospects move and “smell them up close.” If someone asks you for another dance, you’re in, he said. Six years ago, Dylan Reibling and Joel MacDonald were looking for an excuse to throw a party in a bar, so they concocted Toronto’s annual Fake Prom. Fake Prom also strives for authenticity with its king and queen selection, cover band and balloon archway, Reibling said. “It’s kind of like a chance to revisit all the traditions, but later on in life when you’re a little bit more confident and have a better idea of who you are,” he said. “It’s creating a space for people to step outside of their normal quotidian, social roles.” Reibling said last year’s event, held in August, attracted 750 people decked out in gowns and tuxes. Fake Prom was originally designed to cater to the punk and indie rock scene, but Reibling says it now attracts a “full gamut” of guests. He said dancers have gone all out for themes that have included “An Enchanted Evening” and “Under the Sea.” “Someone came with a dress that had a bunch of baggies of fish stapled to it,” he said. “Live fish, which was wild.” Tjia, meanwhile, said slow dance parties are also popular with people who just want to be held. “Touching is complicated in our society because you can’t really hold strangers on the street,” he said. “It’s just weird, right? You’d get arrested for that. We’re trying to create this space.” Goodwyn said 150 people showed up for the last slow dance party and 500 dancers are expected at this week’s prom, which would be a sellout for the rented hall. Volunteer “resident dancers” will also be on hand for those standing alone on the sidelines. Goodwyn said it’s part of an effort to avoid replaying awkward high-school moments. “If you feel shy or you end up feeling a little bit like a wallflower, they’re there like taxis in the night to sort of rescue people from that situation,” Goodwyn said of the volunteer dancers. For more information on Slow Dance Prom check www.slowdancenight.blogspot.com
LOSE YOURSELF AT YE OLDE CINDERELLA PROM
It's 10 p.m. on a Saturday night, and I'm sandwiched between a tall, redheaded unicorn and a flabby knight clad in cardboard armour on the 504 King Street West streetcar. The peach medieval-style peasant dress I borrowed for tonight already reeks of cheap lady's perfume and dried carnations - the lingering scent of a drag queen posse comparing fishnets are close by. A few minutes later, I'm walking behind the unicorn atop the Roncesvalles footbridge to the enchanting fifth annual Fake Prom costume ball on Toronto's waterfront. For $10, we step through the tall glass doors of one of the city's most famous dance halls, the Palais Royale, and become transported to a bittersweet, fabled world of long ago. The restored 85-year-old aged wood dance floor is transformed into a parallel universe of cheesy high school prom paraphernalia juxtaposing turn-of-the-century furnishings, papier mache dragons and modern martini cocktails. Turquoise and white streamers drape the walls. The DJ is spinning everything from Lionel Ritchie to A Tribe Called Quest, and a live band made up of local musicians Chad Paulson, Dean Wales, John McCardle and Dan Werb is set to take the stage from midnight to 3 a.m. The only thing missing here are teachers and high school students. "We attract a lot of people in their 20s and 30s," says documentary filmmaker Dylan Reibling, 28, who founded and organized Fake Prom. "It's something that appeals to a broad range of people because everyone had a prom." Dressed in black and silver armour, Reibling escorts me toward a brilliant wall of glass that exits onto a kingly courtyard and deck. We are awed by a surprisingly clean and picturesque Lake Ontario. In two hours, 800 people will be partying and showing off their fairy wings on these steps. "People love to dress up for theme parties because a lot of social conventions are brought down that way," states Reibling. "They can have a lot more fun with it than they would at a club, where it's all about the latest style." In 2003, Reibling, Joel MacDonald and Amy Butoiske organized the first annual �dress-up dance party' at Sneaky Dee's "as an excuse to throw a party." Roughly 150 people showed up, and downtown hipsters soon caught on. A year later, Reibling introduced an Under the Sea theme, and 2005 saw the event increase in popularity with its move to the Gladstone Hotel. Last year, a wilder jungle-themed dance party was moved to Lee's Palace. The year 2007 is their most successful to date, Palais Royale being the largest and most dazzling location yet. Advertising consists of thousands of posters and flyers, but mostly it's word of mouth. With so many knights and princesses to please, this year's event also featured an optional match-making service by which willing candidates allow the organizers to choose a blind date for them. And it's all for a good cause! Reibling decided to donate part of this year's profits to the AIDS Walk of Life organized by the AIDS Committee of Toronto. "I hope to inspire others," he admits to me as we watch the stars illuminate some faraway yachts. Behind us, a costumed prince in velvet robes is doing the twist with a small blonde sporting a Superwoman outfit. I snake through the crowd, past the ever-present couple making out behind a wreath, and into the ballroom, where the DJ starts spinning The Bloodhound Gang. The dancing begins.
Your faithful Toronto correspondent is currently in exile in not-Toronto, brooding over the cool stuff happening around the city during the tail end of August. Go forth and party in my honor: August 25th brings a good reason to brave the throngs of small children, couples holding hands, and guys shooting themselves out of cannons at the Canadian National Expo: Sloan and the Golden Dogs will be sharing a stage. Admission to the Ex is $14 every day; buy your tickets early and they'll be cheap. If you're still ready to hit the town after that, put on your best princess gown or suit of armor and head out to the Palais Royale for the 2007 Fake Prom. Organizers promise a magical evening - just like a royal cotillion, but with more '80s hits and beer. Way more beer. Tickets are $10 and are available at Rotate This and Soundscapes.
TUXEDOS AND TAFFETA: Relive special night all over again with Fake Prom
Despite being six years removed from high school, Toronto resident Brad Ferguson is excited about going to prom tonight. He has his suit picked out (blue, three-piece pinstripe) and is debating on whether to get his date a corsage. But you won't see Ferguson, 24, in a rented limo rolling with a pack of high schoolers - he's attending Fake Prom, the annual event where the older crowd recreates the prom experience. It's an evening that features all the popular aspects of prom - dressing up to the nines, slow dancing to the beat of a live band, elaborate themes - minus the adolescent awkwardness. "The cool vibe about it is that it's prom all over again, but you're old enough to drink and everyone's the coolest kid at school," Ferguson says about the event being held tonight at the Palais Royale Ballroom on 1601 Lake Shore Blvd. W. This year's celebration looks to be the biggest one yet, with more than 600 people expected to attend. It's a far cry from the first Fake Prom in 2003, which crammed about 100 people into Sneaky Dee's bar on College St. at Bathurst St. Co-founders Dylan Reibling and Joel MacDonald say people of any age are still seduced by the romance of prom. "I think it has something to do with the fact proms are such a huge institution - they have a style and structure and series of traditions that everybody knows to some degree," Reibling says. Fake Prom emulates these traditions, albeit in a cheeky manner. While plenty of people show up wearing straightforward suits and dresses, Reibling has seen some eye-popping outfits tailored to match the theme of the evening. Among the highlights of last year's jungle-themed party were a variety of animal print dresses, an outfit made entirely out of leaves and two people dressed up as South American guerrilla warlords. In 2004, for their "Under the Sea" theme, one woman came in a dress adorned with zip-lock bags of live goldfish. And for this year's "An Enchanted Evening" event, Reibling is expecting some knights in shining armour and princesses from faraway lands. The décor promises to be as flashy as the outfits. Drawing inspiration from mid-'80s fantasy films like Legend (starring Tom Cruise and ... a unicorn) and Labyrinth, partygoers can expect an "enchanted footbridge" leading to the Palais Royal, a 6-foot paper mâché dragon with smoke effects and a stage made up to resemble a castle. Outfits and ornamentations aside, Fake Prom has become a popular event because it's a dance party with a strong interactive element. People are able to request songs at fakeprom.com, and a live band comprised of local musicians is assembled every year to perform renditions of party favourites by artists like Flock of Seagulls, Corey Hart and Glenn Frey. Songs that match the evening's theme (i.e. "Every Little Thing She Does is Magic" by The Police) are played by DJs who also kick out the jams of everything from Michael Jackson hits to cheesy Backstreet Boys power ballads. All of this culminates with the evening's musical highlight: the annual dance competition. "The dance-offs are usually a point of chaos for me, because we run them after the band really gets the crowd going," MacDonald says. "By this point of the night, the Fake Prom spirit is flowing and you really see some serious competition." So you think you can dance? Reibling offers a tip for those looking to claim top prize for cutting the rug. "You're going to hear a lot of talk about technique, and skill, and style, and finesse. None of it is true. It pretty much boils down to sheer enthusiasm ... we're suckers for people who just go out and lose their minds on the dance floor." Join hosts "Superintendent" Dylan Reibling and "Principal" Joel MacDonald at "Fake Prom 2007: An Enchanted Evening," 9 p.m. at the Palais Royale Ballroom. $10. 19+.
Fake Prom 2007: An Enchanted Evening
Prom. Clichés include: the end of an era, a celebration of what has been, a look to the future, a last chance for romance, a big fucking party and of course, finding prom clichéd. Whether yours was the night that you got stood up with the limo, did it for the first time or somewhere in between, memories of your actual year-end formal high school dance are likely bittersweet. But what would life be without second chances, another opportunity to stroll down that promenade once more and show the cheerleaders that they're not the only ones who can have hunky boyfriends and great hair. Join DJs Principal MacDonald, Dougie Boom and Le French Toast and be the belle of the ball this Saturday August 25 at the 2007 Fake Prom. Okay, so yes, it's fake. This is a fabricated evening, a manufactured watershed organized by people you barely know to their own ends: just like the real prom. This time the magical 19+ evening will be held at the Palais Royale Ballroom, the historic 1920s dance hall and time capsule worthy of this surreal blast-from-the-past. With tickets going for $10 from Soundscapes and Rotate This, make sure to secure your spot at the party of the yesteryear. This year's event takes that theme very (un)seriously, projecting us back to a time of knights, ladies, chivalry and dragons. Everything about this one is going to be fake, fun or both as illustrated by the events' claim/gospel that, "As another school year draws to a close, it is time to get out your dancing shoes for that wild night of debauchery known as Fake Prom." I'm good, giving and game. And if you don't have a date lined-up that's the same, Fake Prom has got you covered. Fake Date Matchmaking (http://www.fakeprom.com/matchmaking.html) is a free survey followed by a service that will bring you together with the real mate of your dreams. An effort to alleviate the, "I don't have a date and I'm a fantastic loser," woes, Matchmaking is designed to overthrow social pressure to pair up, while fulfilling personal desire to hook-up. Fill out a questionnaire, attend and get your booty on the floor for some Fake Prom fun.
FAKE PROM: Take back the night
Just because indie music fans aren't up for a sleazy-grinding, fruity-boozing, bass-bin-thumping night in the entertainment district doesn't mean they don't like to dance. For years, there have been a number of alternative dance parties catering to those without shiny t-shirts and four-inch stilettos, from themed nights at the Dance Cave to the holy Britpop trinity of Mod Club, Blow Up (R.I.P.) and Ukula. But the success of more interactive indie dance parties such as the ingenious notes-in-lockers singles night Santa Cruz, Goin' Steady's all-out '40s/'50s throwback and Saturday night's fifth annual Fake Prom has as much to do with engaging the crowd's creativity as getting them to shake their asses. Not just a clever name, Fake Prom is exactly what it says: an actual prom not associated with any educational institution. It started as an excuse for the co-founder Dylan Reibling to have a party with his former university "nerd frat house" friends, but piqued his desire to do something with an event that no one else was doing. "I think that Fake Prom was a bit more novel [in 2003] than it is now," he says. "When it first started up... when people heard the name Fake Prom they thought, ‘Oh, it's going to be an '80s retro night.'" Whereas musically themed events tend to attract people based on a shared taste, Fake Prom and its ilk tap into something a little deeper than novelty. "Part of it, I think, is a by-product of the creativity that goes into it," he says. "As a dress-up event, you really eliminate all the signifiers of style and taste and class or whatever. Those things don't factor in and you don't know who the jocks are, so it's a pretty good atmosphere for meeting new people." Although this year's theme is Enchanted Evening, which Reibling hopes evokes a serious "all-night D&D role-playing party," he maintains that the dorkiness of the event is not to be misread as irony. "The only way ... enjoying something can be ironic is if there's an opposite meaning to ‘enjoying' something," he says. "I think a better term is guilty pleasure." And with these types of interactive events, it's more about what Reibling calls "acknowledging the situation and creating a space for your enjoyment, which is a lot less cynical than just out-and-out making fun of something." As more people caught on and Fake Prom's popularity grew from the initial gathering of about 150 people at Sneaky Dee's to selling out Lee's Palace by 10:30pm last year, Reibling has again upped the ante, opting for Parkdale's Palais Royale. Despite the classy real-prom vibe of the new venue, he maintains, "the audience will determine how fake it is. "One of the things that keeps me doing Fake Prom every year [is that] the last four years we've been really heavy on the theme," he says, "and it's been an endless treat to see how people latch onto that idea." But in a city where parading around in public spaces simply to acknowledge the space as public has become almost commonplace, he says "that sort of ethos, that DIY approach and sort of taking charge of your interaction with the city has really seeped into indie culture." Reibling also credits events like Vazeleen for incorporating live bands into a dance party setting as well as seeing the Constantines at the Bloor JCC, where tambourines were readily distributed to the crowd to help loosen up Toronto audiences. "It's not typical dance music," he admits, "but everyone went nuts." Intermingling art and music, dance parties and guilty pleasures is nothing new, but it takes a special something to keep it from getting old. Citing Santa Cruz and Vazaleen as models for continued success, he says, "These things tend to feel like they're being run by artists and there's more creative energy behind [them]." Conversely, it's this creativity that limits Fake Prom to being an annual occurrence. Despite a public demand for more proms, Reibling has resisted, fearing that turning it into a monthly event wouldn't be "special." "The bottom line is that there's no way that I could do more than one Fake Prom," he says. "There's a reason why there's not a Santa Cruz every month: these things take a lot of work and a lot of energy. When it comes down to it, your weekly Britpop night that everybody knows on Wednesdays to go to, that crowd is here - those make money and that's going to be the bottom line. Whereas weirdo art things at Leslie Spit or Under the Bridge, they'll be lucky if they cover their [cost]." "Things get co-opted though," he says. "I remember when Mod Club was at Lava Lounge, and now it's its own club." But pondering an all-puffy-dresses-all-the-time event, he admits, "I'm not sure if I would be too into a Fake Prom Club."
D.j. doo-wop, dorkiness optional Prom night's a lot less tense when you're older, wiser and no longer in high school
Alexis McLaren remembers her prom night. And, frankly, the memories aren't so great. "I had tomboyish tendencies. So dressing up in a ball gown was difficult for me. No matter what you're wearing, when the last song comes on, you're still the awkward person standing there in the corner." But tonight, McLaren will right the wrongs of high school when she attends the third annual Fake Prom at the Gladstone Hotel, an event with no academic connections whatsoever but all the kitschy trappings of a ceremonial dress-up dance. And this time, McLaren's really going to bust it out. "I think you're lucky if you've found yourself by the age of 17 or 18 enough to do prom right. I was more concerned with the swim meet or the soccer finals and I wasn't really thinking about the dress. But things have changed." She wore a black, sack-like "thing" to her real prom. But for Fake Prom, McLaren, now 23, will wear a turquoise and pink dress which she describes as "very original," accessorized with a '40s-style brunette flip wig, and a fancy garter belt and stockings. And she'll be accompanied by the ultimate accessory - a dapper date named David Dineen-Porter. He plans to wear a powder blue tux and blue suede shoes and give McLaren a homemade corsage, made of "pine cones or something." Though they're just going as friends (the best kind of prom date, he says) they'll float up the red carpet into the Hollywood-themed event together, sit for a Polaroid in the balloon archway, and maybe, just maybe, be voted King and Queen of the Prom. They're definitely going to dance, says Dineen-Porter, who admits he's making up for lost time at his real prom. "For me, it's a chance to go to prom at a point in my life when I'm not anxious about anything. I was like most people at prom; I didn't really dance at all. Most people are too afraid of looking stupid to dance." The creative energy McLaren and Dineen-Porter are mustering is exactly what Dylan Reibling had in mind when he organized the first annual Fake Prom two years ago, with the support of a group of 20-somethings who had been regulars in the local indie music scene.He's spent the last several weeks collecting and making props, delegating a yearbook committee and setting up a matchmaking service for those without dates. "People are taking the idea of fake prom and thinking about how they can use it as a means of creative expression. That's what I'm really interested in," says Reibling. Planning an elaborate outfit is the most obvious way to be creative, says Reibling. While the first two proms brought out some attention-getting costumes - one participant at last year's underwater-themed event stapled Ziploc bags containing dead fish to her outfit, and another wore a very large shark head - perhaps because of this year's more glamorous theme and venue, everybody's planning to go all out. One participant plans to recreate Molly Ringwald's dress from the teen movie Pretty In Pink. Another will fashion a dress from discarded film reels. Also adding a glamorous sparkle to the event, a group of young make-up school students have volunteered their time to do hair and makeup for anyone who requests it. The event, which took place at Sneaky Dee's in past years, attracted about 200 participants and was quite a sensation in the local indie rock and punk scene. But this year, Reibling and the rest of the prom committee are hoping for more than 250 of all ages and interests. Reibling will help create the vibe by hosting tonight's prom dressed in character as his alter ego, Superintendent Reibling, a dorky but well-meaning school administrator. The Superintendent will primp by adding elements of a vintage film director's outfit to his everyday school administrator's suit.
YOUR SECOND CHANCE TO SHINE ON PROM NIGHT
Young people in Toronto are scurrying around getting ready for prom. They are renting tuxes, borrowing dresses from boyfriends' older sisters, planning pre- and post- parties. They dream of dance contests and Polaroids under the arch. Time-honoured traditions -- except that it is August, most of the crowd is long graduated, and they won't be rocking the formalwear in a gym or ballroom but at scuzzy bar Sneaky Dee's. Welcome to Fake Prom 2004, the second annual indie-rock prom, where the queen won't be a cheerleader but an activist, a painter or video-maker -- kids who seldom wear the sash at normal spring formals. The self-appointed prom committee -- "Superintendent" Dylan Reibling, "Chancellor" Amy Butoiske and "Principal" Joel MacDonald -- were only looking for an excuse for a dress-up party last summer, but 175 people turned up. Internet chatter suggests this Prom will be even more packed. The pitch-perfect theme is "Under the Sea," and musicians from the weekly Wavelength concert series (also held at Sneaky Dee's) have been recruited as the Fake Prom Replacement Band. "Sneaky Dee's takes all the glitz and glamour and subverts it in a punk-rock way," says Reibling. "The music is tougher: Should it be music we heard in high school, or music we wanted to hear in high school?" So DJs play the indie hits, while the band gets leeway to do 1980s kitsch - even though most Fake Prom goers came of age in the 1990s. So far no one has arrived by limousine, but a mass bicycle caravan is planned as a punk-enough alternative. And no one rents hotel rooms now that they're old enough to have apartments. But are they actually old enough to pine for high school, traditionally no artists' haven? My school friends "boycotted" the jock-dominated prom. After querying the indie-scene Web forum, http://www.20hz.ca, I was surprised how many posters had gone to theirs. What they described was not candy pink and soft focus. There were sordid intrigues, one E. coli class poisoning, and copious hallucinogenic-drug use, as if to match the surreal prom ambience. One post (mildly edited) can stand in all its vulgar glory for the lot: "My boyfriend and i had broken up but decided that we'd still go together. but seeing as how i'm a vindictive bitch, i decided to go behind his back and ask the swiss foreign exchange student to the prom, that i'd had the hots for all year. so i told my boyfriend to go stick it in his . . . cuz i had an alternate date. he brought this beast from the city (who i hated, because i knew that they had fooled around right after we had broken up). so it was awkward at the pre-prom party, and we were doing our best to ignore one another. and then at the actual prom it was okay, because i was smashed and livin' it up, and my dress didn't fit (i made it) and my boobs were totally hanging out . . . yeah i'm a hero. "Anyway, so at the after-party . . . LO AND BEHOLD my ex-boyfriend and his hussy bitch ho date were dressed up in POLICE UNIFORM SHIRTS (which was 'our' thing -- i used to make him wear it sometimes . . . uh for uh . . . fun) and so i was like HOW DARE YOU!!!! and he was like 'well larissa, why don't you tell everyone why this bothers you,' and i was all bitchbitch and he was all defydefy -- and then i look over -- and HIS DATE is DRAGGING MY DATE into the fuckin' forest -- like the cavewoman she was -- to SCORE HIM!!! MY PROM DATE!!! "So i ended up crying myself to sleep at the party house, and i woke up in the morning half contorted on some stairs, and in this weird alcove. OH AND I ALMOST HAD A CONCUSSION BECAUSE I JUMPED ON SOME GUY'S BACK WHEN I WAS WASTED AND WE BOTH FELL INTO A PIANO." Parents, just be glad I don't tell you what happened at her grad party. No wonder the most powerful pop-culture prom image is Carrie's telekinetic mass slaughter. Reibling's own prom was merely dull - Fake Prom wasn't founded to "revise past traumas." Yet as one 20hz poster wrote, "It might have something to do with reclaiming events that were not fun in the first place and making them your own." But can that effort go too far? Music-scene regular Matt Alexander points to the recent Track and Field concert-and-outdoor-sports event; February's full-day Blocks Recording Club concert, where the emcee parodied a series of teacher stereotypes (another Blocks marathon happens the morning after Fake Prom); and the Santa Cruz semi-formal-style monthly dance party, where you can send crush notes to other guests' "lockers." He wonders if it's a collective case of arrested development. It's a blessing that the indie scene has become less angsty, more physical and fun. (At the Gobsmacked! festival at Harbourfront Centre this weekend, performers like Broken Social Scene, Jim Guthrie, Barmitzvah Bros., the Hidden Cameras and New York band One Ring Zero all dare to display an "uncool" sense of humour and inclusion.) And high-school archetypes are goofily universal. It lingers in the mind as an unresolvable experience -- you transition to adulthood in daily confinement with a horde ruled over by tinpot-dictator authorities, through a sequence of absurd, embarrassing events, then prom and grad and bang, it's done. It's "just high school," the most incoherent rite of passage a culture ever had. A scene recalls high school, albeit with nerds transformed into popular kids. As Alexander says, the social structure and regular events echo high school's consistency in a post-school phase of life when so much is murk. Mostly, that seems benign: Reibling recalls a gay couple who came in off the street last summer and later thanked the committee for giving them an experience they'd missed out on. Still, it's worth asking if this stress on teen-retro fun in such a gifted community does risk stunting more mature accomplishments and serious creative work. I can't wait for Fake Prom, but part of the thrill of a real one is that it points, dizzily, toward graduation.
DANCE PARTY B.Y.O.- TIARA
Fake Prom = Real Good Times It's incredible to think back to what you looked like at the high school prom; youthful, buoyant, fresh-faced, stuff like that. Take that image - add about 1000 gallons of beer, twice as many cigarettes, a tonne of scarring sexual experiences and at least 20 pounds - and here you are today! But if you can't (or choose not to) remember yourself at the prom, then you can fake the whole thing this Saturday night at the Gladstone Hotel. Whereas highschool proms put a premium on a 'magical evening,' the fake prom moves the emphasis over to 'ironic' - funny ties, goofball shoes, glasses and the what-nots. Though Torontoist must stress, don't take any of our words the wrong way, sensitive readers! As proms usually go, last year's fake prom at Sneaky Dee's is now the stuff of legends. (Let's reveal our ages for a second here - Backstreet Boys "I Want It That Way" was our official prom song. We must have heard that song 50 times on prom night alone, not counting any after- or pre- parties. In retrospect, that may explain a few things about our current selves.)
Countdown To Fake Prom
It's a wonder that Torontoist can remember anything from the last couple of Fake Proms, seeing how they've been a booze-fueled blur of boogeying, checking out pretty boys and girls in formal wear and listening to the Fake Prom band blare out prom classics. But we were recently reminded that the event is upon us once again. Now some people might pooh pooh us and say proms are special because they really only happen once, and you really go to a prom twice only if an older/younger boy or girl takes you again or you repeat your last year. But they miss the point. Repeat proms, fake or real, means repeat opportunities to shop for prom wear. So a few hints from us to you, oh sartorially challenged hipster.
1) Learn how to tie a tie, clip-ons are evil. Fake Prom 2006 is on August 12, 2006 at Lee's Palace. Tickets are $5 and available at Soundscapes and Rotate This.
Fake Prom Do you remember your prom? Maybe it wasn't so long ago. Mine was...ahem...a while ago. And I pretty much organized the whole thing, right down to the "Forever Young" (Alphaville) theme. So I've never really had a chance to ENJOY the prom as one rightfully should. So what's a jilted prom attendee to do? Haul her ass over to this weekend's Fake Prom at the Gladstone Hotel, of course. It's an annual affair where you get to relive the fun aspects of the prom, without the painful memories of high school (well, for some of us). This year's event will have a red carpet arrival, and my friends and I have been busy scouring local thrift shops and vintage stores for our perfectly coordinated outfits. There will be classic prom tunes, dance contests, and of course, Prom King and Prom Queen. I can't wait to have my polaroid taken under the balloon arch! Contact Superintendent Reibling: dylan@fakeprom.com | |||||