True Life: I Was a Southern Debutante

I went through a weird phase my first couple years of college where on paper I was essentially some sort of Mississippi debutante. I had the same personality and same sense of humor as I do now, (at least I think so. Have I changed since I hit it big moderate with all my blogging success efforts?) except I did things that a young woman raised by Delta Burke might be interested in.

It first started when I was in high school and decided that I wanted to go to college in the South. I ended up going to James Madison University in Virginia for a hot, hot second, but got the hell out because I couldn’t bare to hear the words ‘sweet tea’ anymore. I know some Southerners who are quick to point out that their kind are not racist or homophobic, and I won’t counter that. I’ll just say that there was a Confederate flag memorabilia store next to the Victoria Secret at the mall. And at an orientation event about diversity, a kid got up and said into a microphone to a couple thousand freshmen that homosexuals were pedophiles (which was met with exactly half the crowd cheering and a quarter of the crowd booing). Bright side, there was a Chic-Fil-A on campus (which, turns out, they give a lot of their money to anti-gay groups. I’m not trying to make any kind of point here). Anyway, living in the South was not for me, so I transferred to Emerson College in Boston.

I definitely don't belong in the South, but I do have a soft spot for Texas. That's my friend Riley and me on a BOAT. In all my years in NH I have never, ever partied on a boat.

In the span between starting school at James Madison and ending with junior year at Emerson, I dyed my hair blonde, joined a sorority, and entered some pageants. And I did it all with a navel piercing.*

To preface this, I did meet some of my best friends in Emerson’s AEPhi, and embarrassingly enough, I met girls who will be in my Muppet themed wedding one day (embarrassing because it’s cliche to say that, not because I want a Muppet themed wedding), so I don’t regret anything.

I blurred out some faces to protect their identities. Plus I don't want to give their faces free advertising. The one on the far right is future bridesmaid, Michelle. Also, the editing in this photo is against everything I stand for, and I didn't do it. I just needed to say that for my own peace of mind.

That’s me and my pledge class on the night we first started pledging or as I remember it, the last time all the sisters didn’t hate me. Without getting too into the traditions and stuff, there were a lot of rules and dumb stuff to memorize, which I… did not. By the time I graduated, most of the sisters hated me less. (How can you hate someone who has so many funny voices up her sleeve?! Have you heard my Cher impression)?

I was just not cut out to be in a sorority. I’m a lone unicorn– independent. I like to back out of any and all social functions at the last minute. Those qualities are not conducive to being a good sorority sister since to be in a sorority you are expected to socialize. Bleccch.

Then I did pageants, which you can read all about in this post. Another thing I was not cut out for.

Who is that person???

Shortly after this pageant, I started to move out of my Mississippi debutante phase. Right now, I’m in whatever phase it’s called when you live at home with your parents, wear sweat pants all day, and your main hobby is maintaining a blog and drinking by yourself. So, like, a very sad phase.

*It’s important to note that the navel ring has since been removed. 
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5 thoughts on “True Life: I Was a Southern Debutante

  1. What a small world…I grew up in Harrisonburg, VA….by James Madison. I am sad you didn’t like the Valley but understand 🙂 Glad you got to experience it…even for a hot second 🙂

  2. I think I would like to be a debutante, maybe for a week or two. I like wearing pretty dresses and people telling me I’m pretty. Sounds like a good time.

    By the by, I fully support your current phase.

  3. lmao. what were we thinking… and um, if anyone asks I definitelyyy wasnt the one who edited that photo…. (listen… I was 18 and going through a dominoscinnasticks-induced rough patch in my life…)

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