Prom is an opportunity to feel like a real princess. Many girls prepare for it as if it were their wedding, choosing a special dress, makeup, and hairstyle long before the event. We think it’d be fun to see how graduates of different eras from around the world looked during their prom.
“My mom and the prom dress my grandmother made, 1965”
“Here’s my grandmother in the prom dress her mother made for her. This photo was probably taken in or around 1953.”
“My aunt and uncle at their prom, 1971 — she still looks amazing.”
“Prom 1959 to 2022: Grandma is still serving looks.”
“My parents at prom in 1992”
“Rocking into prom (1988)! I still laugh when looking at this photo.”
“My grandma, posing in her homemade prom dress in the mid-1940s”
“My mom and dad at their prom, 1986 — I will always want her dress.”
“My great-grandmother at her high school prom, I believe it was 1948.”
“My prom in 1993: the helmet hair, the sequins, the black pumps, the press-on nails”
“My grandma winning prom queen, May 1957”
“My grandmother’s senior prom photo, early 1960s”
“My grandparents at their prom (late 1940s) and on their wedding day (1950)”
“That time in 1989 when I was short and had a mullet, and my buddy took a soap star to prom.”
“My grandma, ready for prom, 1959 — she actually made that dress.”
“My mom’s prom, 1976”
“My grandparents at their senior prom in 1958 — I think they look so sharp!”
“Big hair prom, 1988 — thank gosh my hair didn’t catch on fire. It was so flammable!”
“My nana’s prom picture, circa 1942 — I inherited her lovely ginger locks.”
“My mom at her prom in 1973”
Speaking of the last century, we decided to recall what was happening back in 1989, when the Internet had just been invented
We Adopted a 3 Year Old Boy, When My Husband Went to Bathe Him for the First Time, He Shouted, We Must Return Him
Years of infertility led us to adopt Sam, our cherished three-year-old with striking blue eyes. On our first night together, my husband Mark panicked while bathing him, yelling, “We have to return him!” Confused, I went to check, only to spot a familiar birthmark on Sam’s foot.
I later discovered the shocking truth: Sam was Mark’s biological son from a one-night affair years prior. Mark’s guilt surged when he recognized the birthmark, but he refused to address it directly. After confirming the connection with a DNA test, I decided to take action. I filed for divorce and full custody, knowing Sam deserved a stable, loving home.
Since then, Sam and I have built a joyful life together. Mark, distant by choice, occasionally sends cards, but Sam has thrived despite it all. When people ask if I regret staying that first night, I say no. Sam is my son, and choosing him was the best decision I ever made.
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