High school proms are just too tacky for my liking
I didn't know Hull had a Tango factory.
And I was also similarly unaware it had exploded recently.
What other explanation could there be for the rows of orange teenagers I'm seeing around town?
Oh, it must be prom season; that time of year when teenagers dress up like a Jordan at a Big Fat Gypsy Wedding and dance the night away in their school halls.
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I'm just jealous. When I was a lad, we didn't have school proms.
I had no chance of getting up close and personal with one of my classmates behind the bike sheds after smooching my way through Lady In Red.
Which is just as well, as I went to an all-boys school.
But even my friends who went to schools that had those strange, mythical creatures known as girls, didn't have proms.
If they were lucky there was a hastily arranged disco, which would be policed with an iron rod by the local nuns, where you'd get to shuffle about to Rick Astley before downing a Panda Pop from the tuck shop in the corner.
I really can't see the point of the largesse behind the modern prom.
Spending eight grand on a meringue dress that would make Su Pollard wince before arriving in a limo usually reserved for bad boy rappers and the boss of Barclays strikes me as a little ... tacky.
It's all a too ostentatious for my liking. Still, I have to doff my cap to the lads who turned up to Hessle High School's Year 11 prom on mobility scooters.
Now that was funny.