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Pref
The Dress
It cost $42.00, which at the time seemed out…RAGEOUS. I mean, it wasn’t floor length or even semi-formal; it was just a really “nice” dress as we were instructed to wear. So let me tell you about this beauty.
First, as in keeping with the latter 70’s fashion, it fell just below the knee – could there be a dowdier, more unflattering length for most women? It was some kind of sheer fabric that the salesgirl called “fluid” and had a satin lining in a shade of yellow that I don’t think is truly found in nature. The closest thing I can compare it to is the yellowish-tan color of a piece of Mary Jane, pull-your-crowns-off chewy candy.
The sheer overlay was a floral paradise of yellow, yellow and yellow. Well, it was different shades of light to medium yellows, with such a tight floral pattern you could only feel like it needed to be pruned and thinned out. It had a firm elastic waist and was worn with a very thin (think shoe lace) fabric belt that matched the lining. Here’s the best part – the skirt was designed to billow, and billow it did if you twirled fast enough. You just had to be careful it didn’t helicopter up on you and show the world your unmentionables.
It had short, semi-puffy sleeves that also contained skin-cutting elastic to make the bottom edge of the sleeves ruffle out. And speaking of ruffles, a bounty of them ran up and down the V-neck—my, but it was a busy little dress! I loved it, though, and wore it with my thick, six inch platform shoes…okay, not really. I think a simple pair of slingbacks in one of the safe neutrals did the trick.
Dressed and ready, I was off for my first pref at Village People. It was held off campus at the home of an alumni and I remember how beautiful the girls looked in gowns that matched their sorority colors. They seemed to shimmer in the candlelight, and really, I was so overwhelmed by the quiet beauty that the entire party felt surreal. I don’t remember a whole lot of ceremonial details about this pref! The sister who sat with me spoke ever-so-softly about what the Village People meant to her and how they had rallied around her during a difficult time in her life. The time passed quickly and I never really felt like I snapped out of the dream-like state that settled on me when I first arrived. I left knowing, though, that I would be very happy as a member of the Village People.
Donna Summer’s pref was also held at an alumni’s house. It was a magnificent home brimming with antiques and had dark hardwood floors. Again, a sister engaged me in one-on-one talk and spoke of the important role the sorority played in her life. In some ways, the pref was going a lot like the one at Village People…until …
I was led up a staircase and into a small alcove lit by two hurricane lamps where the sorority president stood next to a vintage mirror. After saying a few words about the sorority, she gently turned me around so that I faced my reflection in mirror. “Now tell me _________,” she said, “can you see yourself as a sister in Donna Summer?”
I’m not normally a crier, but tonight I was. I normally AM a talker, but tonight I wasn’t. As tears streamed down my cheeks, I could only look in the mirror and nod. The president smiled and made eye contact through our reflections. I knew. I just knew.
I listed Donna Summer first and Village People second.
My friend Swiss was having a real difficult time! She had attended prefs for Donna Summer and Abba and was really struggling with which way to go. She loved both and had been trying to choose between them since the first night of theme parties. Sitting in the student center (where we returned to after prefs), she cried, talked to our rush advisor and cried some more. One by one, people were filling out their cards and leaving – but not Swiss. She finally waved me on and I returned to my dorm and waited for her to call – but she never did! I knew I’d have to wait until tomorrow and see which suite she walked into after bids were extended.
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Threaded Mode
