The Subdeb Dance

Altruism, intellectual curiosity, ethical pursuits aside, the overwhelming passion for me in High School was BOYS and dances.

Coming from a family of girls and living in a culture that stereotyped the male in the unattainable John Wayne mold, I was enchanted by this strange species of humans that had emerged from the freckled-faced, rowdy boys I had played baseball with earlier in my life.

The culmination of this fascination was the semi-annual Subdeb dance. We had no such thing as a high school prom—only this magnificent event for an elite few who were cheerfully blind to social inequality. The school gym and later the Country Club were elaborately decorated. Hours were spent draping crepe paper over every inch on the ceiling creating a tent of pastel colors or a silver shimmering of an ice palace.

Months went into planning the entrance arch, an elegant structure that set the theme A bower of flowers in the Spring—a winter wonderland at Christmas.

More important than who we went with was what we wore. Magnificent ball gowns in the style of Gone-with the Wind were carefully designed and then handmade by a local seamstress.

With true artistry Dorothy Hoover, a classmate, could produce sketches. Velvet in rich deep colors and satin which rippled in the light were the materials of choice. Luckily I could persuade Dorothy to create a sketch for me. And she would respond gloriously—always saving the most beautiful gown for herself however.

The dances were always from 10p.m. until 2a.m.–a daring hour for us ten o’clock bedtime teenagers. The dance was followed by a breakfast in one of the anti-bellum homes of a Sub Debber.

Our dates picked us up at home and presented a corsage (an orchid if we were lucky—more often a gardenia) Transformed into Cary Grant creatures the boys usually wore rented tuxedos though some wore their best Sunday suit. Then off we went in Cinderella fashion followed in another car by our parents who joined other parents in folding chairs encircling the dance floor.

Arriving at the dance we went immediately to the Ladies Room to rearrange our hair, stabilize our corsage with large florist pins and eye ball the other evening gowns. We also peeped out to be sure there were lots of boys without dates who came as stags. Earlier invitations had been sent to a stag list handed down from years past.

A long line of stags meant a successful dance and if you danced an entire dance with your date you were considered “stuck” and “unpopular”. Girls could be seen glancing around uneasily—afraid of this awful possibility. It was an exhilarating feeling to dance a few steps with your partner who was then tapped on the shoulder by a stag who “cut in”. You turned a smiling face only to be tapped again to dance with another stage. Seeing a group of stags lined up to cut in on you was Heaven itself. We called it “being rushed”.

During the course of the evening there were only six no-break dances. Small no-break cards complete with a tiny pencil and dainty ribbon had six blank spots. It was up to your date to fill your no-break cards with names. You hoped for the most popular boys. The last dance of the evening was always a no-break with your date as the lights were dimmed and the orchestra played “I’ll See You in My Dreams.”

In addition there were other rituals that were religiously followed at each dance. At mid-point around midnight we would line up with our dates according to offices in the Sub Debs—president first, etc. and as the band played “A Pretty Girl is like a Melody” the orchestra leader in a melodious voice announced our name and the name of our escort. We entered the ballroom through the entrance arch as a photographer snapped our picture. After each girl was introduced we performed an elaborate Virginia Reel ending with circling the room to speak and shake hands with each chaperone (our parents sitting around the room).

It was a golden era after WWII. Some of us existed in a romantic, fairytale world dancing our youth away to the music of “Stardust” and “Deep Purple” unaware that we were selfishly insensitive and snobbish. But as High School ended the Korean War was beginning and the earthquake of social change was already rumbling.