The Value of Pride

When I was in high school, possession of material items was very important. I, along with my peers, were constantly encouraged by campaigns posted through all forms of media to buy, buy, buy. However, jealousy and discontent was often bred through the less fortunate who didn't have enough money to buy what was "in." I confess, knowing exactly how this feels, that I was one of these less fortunate.

It happened to me when I was finishing up my senior year. The Prom was in the immediate future, and it was time to get a dress for the occasion. All the other kids in my grade were going all out, buying expensive formal wear and renting private limousines, and I was really feeling the crunch. I mean, my family and I were not definitely in the poorhouse, but almost all of the girls I went to school with had more costly spending habits, wearing expensive designer clothes and cosmetics on a regular basis, and driving new cars given to them as gifts by parents who had no problem paying for them at all.

And in all the shopping excursions my mother and I went on, looking for the perfect dress, the prices were so ridiculously high that we both were forced to decide that it wasn't worth it to spend so much money on something I was only going to wear once. Mom, trying to make the best of it, offered to make me a prom dress. She was actually a very good seamstress, but the mere idea of wearing something homemade under inspection of the other girls I knew and envied was repulsive to me. I feared that none of the boys would ask me to dance, and I would spend the entire evening being miserable.

One Friday afternoon before sixth period, which was gym class, as I was at my locker putting away my schoolbooks, Erin Parks came up to talk to me. I was friends with Erin when we were both in elementary school together, but I slowly lost contact with her since junior high, when she fell in with a different crowd.

"Hi."

"Oh, hi Erin." Finished with my books, I grabbed my gym bag, closed my locker door and faced her directly.

"So, you're going to the Prom?"

"I guess."

"What does that mean?"

"Well, it takes a lot of money just to go, and I don't think it's worth it just to dance in the gym." That year, the Prom was being held in our school gymnasium.

"I see. You doing anything this weekend?"

"Nothing, why?"

"You'll see. Meet me Saturday afternoon at the mall?"

"OK. See you at the food court about one?" The food court was located in the center of the mall, arranged with tables and chairs for people to eat at, and surrounded by vending stands selling cuisine from a variety of cultures.

"Sure." The bell sounded. "See you." she called goodbye, as we both hurried off to our classes.

The next day, after arriving at the mall in the secondhand car I had borrowed from my brother, I wandered through the interior until I sighted Erin at our scheduled meeting place, lounging in an unused chair. I walked up to greet her, but Erin, seeing me, spoke first.

"So, you ready to knock 'em dead?"

"What are you talking about?"

"I'll show you if you come with me." she extended her right hand as she got up. "Come on, come on."

With my hand in hers, Erin led me through the north facing hallway until Bloomingdales came into sight. Bloomingdales was the department store where all the rich girls shopped. I used to wander through it just to look at the merchandise, imagining what my life would be like if I could afford to buy any of it.

"Erin, wait, I can't afford this place."

"You can now."

As we walked through the entrance and took the escalator up to the third floor, which was stocked with ladies formal wear, we were gradually surrounded by controlled lighting and the sound of contemporary music without lyrics. I acquired a feeling of being watched, as if all of the sales people knew who we were and expected us to buy something immediately.

A young woman came up to us, tall, blonde, slender, and dressed in the common sales uniform of the store. "Can I help you?" she asked us.

"Yes, we're looking for a prom dress." Erin told her.

"Oh, we just got in a great selection. They're right over there." she pointed to an unoccupied section of our floor.

"Thank you." Erin said, and headed in that direction. I followed her, not sure what was going on.

"OK, what size are you?" Erin had reached our destination, and was pawing through a selection of formal dresses wrapped in plastic bags. I got this bad feeling in the pit of my stomach, knowing that they were all out of my price range.

"Erin, there's...there's no way I can afford this."

"Hey, I can't afford it either. Are you an eight or a ten?" She fished out a bundle from the rack of dresses and held it out to display to me.

Instantly, I fell in love with that dress. It was made of a gorgeous shade of plum colored satin, with the bodice and puffed, full-length sleeves trimmed with a flowery lace of the same color. The skirt was gathered and ballerina-length. It was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.

"I'm a ten, but what are we doing here?"

"Look, we worked hard for what we got, right?"

"Right."

"And we deserve a night of fun, right?"

"Right."

"So this is a big store, and one dress is not going to break it. Now why don't you go try this on? The fitting room's over there."

Thinking back, I almost can't believe that I did it, but something inside me just had to wear that dress. All the years I spent watching for sales, shopping for bargains, and keeping a budget became intolerable at that point. It seemed so easy and that dress was so tempting, it didn't appear like I was hurting anybody, but now I know that what I did that day was how Eve took a bite out of the forbidden fruit.

As I stood wearing that dress in front of the three way mirror of the stall I occupied in the fitting room, I was transformed into a completely different person. I looked like the young woman I wanted to be, not just a girl wearing expensive clothes. I couldn't help smiling as I noticed how the dress complimented the lines of my figure. I felt feminine, elegant, and pretty.

"Perfect." Erin commented, sitting on a chair behind me in the back corner of the stall. "We'll take it."

"But how do I pay for it?" I almost joked.

"Leave that to me." Erin got up from her chair, approached me from behind, and reached inside the back of the dress to where the price tags were, expertly breaking the threads with her teeth.

"What are you?..." I quickly turned around.

"Sh..." Erin leaned back to hold her right forefinger vertically across her lips. In a low voice she continued to talk, explaining to me that if you get rid of the tags before you leave the store it's alarm won't sound, enabling you to get away with stolen merchandise.

I must have fallen under the spell of the sound of her voice, because in what seemed to be a very short time, Erin carefully helped me out of the dress, stuffed it into her purse, which was conveniently big enough to hold it, and propelled me out of the store. We spent the rest of the day walking casually around the mall, seeing a movie, eating ice cream, etc., because we did not want to appear obvious to mall security. I was relieved when the day was over, and was able to take the dress home.

I can't deny that having a designer ensemble gave me some pleasure, but after a while it started to haunt me. Nothing in my life changed, and I went about my routine as usual, but always in the back of my mind was the guilty knowledge of what I had done. Many sleepless nights I spent trying to free my brain of this guilt, attempting to find a reason that would allow me to go to the Prom in a stolen dress. I kept coming up with the same answer. There was no way that the other kids would excuse what I had done, no matter what the reason or how much I convinced myself that I was justified.

On the Monday before the Prom was to take place, I was in the school library after hours, studying, when I heard some kids talking, gathered around the table next to mine.

"She's doing it again." said Danny Keller. Danny Keller was a boy I knew and had a crush on, but never thought that he noticed me.

"How do you know?" said Ed Connors, who was in my chemistry class.

"My Mom told me that she was in the fitting room at Bloomingdales, and heard her take off with a prom dress." He said the last two words sort of loudly, as if he knew I was listening.

"You used to go out with her, didn't you?" asked Michelle Hammond, the girl who had the locker next to mine.

"Yeah, we went steady sophomore year, but I had to break up with her."

"Why" she asked again.

"She used to shoplift to get him in trouble." Ed told her.

"Oh my god!" Michelle exclaimed.

"Well, it was right after her parents divorced, so she had some emotional problems, and I feel bad for her. It's possible that she does it to get attention. But the thing is, if you fall for her act, sooner or later you'll get into trouble." Danny looked at me directly when he said this, speaking very distinctly so I could hear, and I knew that he knew what I did. I was so filled with shame that it was very hard to get up and leave.

I came home to find Mom seated at the kitchen table with her sewing machine, biting the threads off what appeared to be a completed garment.

"What's this?" I asked her.

"A prom dress."

Without a word, I hugged my mother and started to cry.

Well, the two of us had a long talk that day, and I told her the whole story. But as it turned out, I didn't have to tell her much. Mom had found the stolen dress in my closet, and figured it out for herself. I will always remember what she said to me, because from her I learned a big lesson about the value of pride. She said that most things worth getting require hard work, and that I shouldn't base my self respect on a price tag. I took another look at the dress my mother made, and it wasn't nearly as horrible as I thought it was going to be. So I resolved to give it a try.

We took the designer dress back to the store together, and told the manager what happened. It turned out that Erin really was a habitual shoplifter, and had stolen thousands of dollars of merchandise from various stores all over the area. He had to notify her parents and press charges against her. Since she was a repeat offender, the judge handling her case sentenced her to serve time in juvenile hall. I never saw her again, and came out of the situation knowing that my life was almost ruined.

I ended up going to the Prom wearing my mother's homemade dress. I was somewhat nervous when I walked into that gymnasium, but I had a very nice time. Danny Keller asked me to dance a number of times, and from the way he looked at me, I gained a sense of pride that was worth more than anything I could ever buy.