Everyone knows prom is really for the ladies. The guys have to come up with a cute and unique promposal, buy the tickets, stuff themselves into a tux and pose for endless photo ops surrounded by giggling girls. Don’t get me wrong; there’s a certain nostalgic charm to the whole process that even guys can enjoy. But as a rule, which gender group prefers dressing up and taking pictures? Not the uber macho men, for sure.

Besides being promposed to, the pinnacle of the whole experience for the females at prom is the dresses. Shopping for a dress, buying a dress, accessorizing your dress, posing for pictures in your dress and, of course, seeing everyone else’s dresses. The dress really is the center of all prom activity.

Given that the demand for prom dresses is so high, basic economics calls for the prices to be through the roof. And so they are.

I have overheard, and been part of, conversations in which a girl will say something along the lines of “I found my dress online for [a price less than $150 but still more than $75],” which elicits impressed noises and congratulations for the girl’s thrifty ways. Because that’s classified as a cheap prom dress.

I have been completely promatized by some of the tackiest, sparkliest, most brightly colored and unflatteringly shaped ragtag assemblages of cloth hung up in sophisticated department stores. And no, I’m not talking about nursing outfits. By some stretch of the imagination, they’re classified as prom dresses.

The idea that anyone could charge above ten dollars for those monstrosities is disappointing. The idea that anyone would spend that much makes me embarrassed to be a teenage girl.

The real tragedy of the situation isn’t even that the dresses are so ugly. It’s that they all look the same. Sure, this one is blue and strapless while that one is one shoulder and yellow. But they both have sequined bodices, long skirts without any particular shape and an empire waist.

And it’s not like any alternatives are provided. This year, mullet skirts have slipped into popularity, and there are some really cute high-low dresses out there. But anything that strays too far from the classic prom dress trail, anything with a promiscuously exposed back or a different arrangement of glitter, stands out like a sore thumb.

Not to sound promtentious, but I got myself a simple wedding dress while really thrift shopping for $25, and will add some brightly colored ribbons to distract from the marital aspects of the dress.

But try as I might, my dress is still a non-sparkly classic prom dress.

Everyone will look good. All of our dates will look classy. And everyone will have a good time. But why does having a good time at a dance require us to look like four hundred dollars worth of attractive?