It surprises me that this matters to some people, but then, I don’t know any of these people, so it’s little more than an anachronism on the periphery of my awareness. Since I was never a girly-girl and I find the concept of “Society” to be quaint and/or silly, plus I don’t come from money (old or new), no, I didn’t debut.
Guess I have a bad attitude, huh?
I know someone else who won’t be getting an invitation to join the Augusta National Golf Club… 
Never was the phrase, “And I cried all the way to the bank” more appropriate. I wonder what his impoliteness consisted of? Did he put ketchup on his po’boy?
Nawth,
Nothing that serious, of course. Horrors of horrors, he didn’t use black or blue-black ink to handwrite his request! Joking aside, prior to Mr. Gates getting married, he was known within the industry as being a “prickly pear.” It was frequently unpleasant to be around him, not only because of his argumentative attitude , but also for, to put it delicately, hygiene issues. I can’t remember if it’s because he would get so focused on work he’d forget about bathing or if he just wanted to piss people off, but it was well known in the systems field. Hell, they even mentioned it in that TV movie, Pirates of Silicon Valley.
This is the case in Ireland as well.
Wiki on the St. Cecilia Society:
How pathetic. Pretentious colonials with airs of grandeur.
FairyChatMom wouldn’t get an invitation were she the most nicey-nice scion of Old Wherever - the most incestously overbred, the one with the debutante announcement that looks most like an advertisement for horse sperm, etc. They don’t take women neither.
That’s it!
Either way, I’m sure she’s crushed.
Hey, there was a time when you couldn’t have paid me to go to that golf course. (I went to a women’s college, you know.) Now were I given the opportunity to blow Bill Gates to play as a guest, I’d at least think about it.
Ma’am, you may be showing a little too much southern charm. [chuckle]
It is something that is done in my family, meant a heck of a lot more to my grandmother than my parents or i.
No pictures left, my parents house had a fire in the mid 80s. Cant really find anything like it online, but if was an off one shoulder white satin sheath, matching 3 inch heels [back before I thrashed my ankles enough to make heels uncomfortable] and my corsage was purple japanese iris and some little eidelweis, no babies breath or ferny crap. I died the ends of my spikes purple and yellow to match the irises [my favorite flowers] It was 1977 - I was a little bit punk =) and ruffles and I don’t mix=)
It was Christmas 1988 for my bunch of friends, and the deb dresses were still mostly knock-offs of Princess Diana’s wedding dress from seven years earlier. White silk with hand-beading of seed pearls on the bodice and big ol’ puffy sleeves. The post-debs (last year’s debutantes) wore solid candlelight (light peachy pink) or really unflattering pink and white stripes in alternating years.
My sister and I were debs, but only she came out (Bachelors Cotillon it’s actually spelled without the “i”). We both did cotillion on Saturdays though. I really sucked at dancing and still do. No coordination. My sister on the other hand can really cut a rug!
I was too tubby, too geeky and too lacking in self confidence, I guess. I know I disappointed my mom and grandmother especially, but I was an angry kid. They said I’d regret not doing it when I got older and I do, because you only do it once. 
I do have a nice pic of my sister in her dress though and as I am going up to my folks’ house for dinner in a few minutes I’ll try and snag the pic, scan it and post it later.
I’m a deb. Came out a few years ago.
It was fun, but I was disappointed my dad couldn’t give me away because he had just had major surgery.
eta: the gown is vera wang, bitches, and I still have it and love it.
Crushed. Yeah, that’s it. I’m crushed. <snerk>
Could you not have waited a ‘season’ and had your dad well enough to escort you?
Gorgeous dress, but there’s something wrong with your date…
You look awesome, lobstermobster.
No pitchfork.
I did the whole deb thing, too. Before the ball, though, I had to take etiquette classes, do a certain number of hours in charitable works (i.e., serving at the local soup kitchen, assisting at various hospices, volunteering at a halfway house) and also learn to dance.
The etiquette classes weren’t all that helpful, since my mom forced me to take extensive etiquette classes when I was young and enforced many of the dinner-etiquette rules I learned at home. The charitable works was an eye opener for me and I think pretty valuable - I wasn’t spoiled per se (I’ve had a job of some sort since I was 10) and learning to dance was also somewhat useful, too.
I hated my gigantic, poofy dress. I looked like Scarlett from Gone With the Wind, only without the curtain rods and tassles. Fortunately, I DO NOT have an electronic version of that photograph. Yuck.