Are girls really spending €1,000 on their debs ball this year? Kate Ferguson felt sure she could have more fun on a budget.
My father is not a woodcutter and my two older sisters are not ugly, yet I still find Cinderella's story inspirational. You see, she was the poorest girl at the ball and yet had the most fun.
Some months ago I made a pledge not to spend more than €50 on the night. I come home one dull pre-Leaving Cert afternoon to find an enormous wine-coloured dress hanging above my mantelpiece like a formal apparition. My mother found it in a local charity shop and it happens to fit me perfectly. It cost €50.
Months pass, the Leaving Cert comes and goes, and finally the day comes when I am a guest at St Declan's debs. Our destination is the Ardboyne Hotel in Navan. It seems Meath has become a popular place to hold a debs for Dublin schools, partly because it's cheaper. The typical debs package consists of a hotel function room rental, a four- or five-course meal, music (usually a band, followed by a DJ) and in some cases a cooked breakfast at about 5am. Coach transport is sometimes included.
As I call schools around Ireland, there is a noticeable divide between schools that organise the debs and those that leave it to the students. One Cavan headmaster is eager to stress that there was no school involvement in his students' debs. He says the event has gone "overboard", and is all about "trying to impress others". He thinks there is "no need" for the debs anymore and would like to see it abolished.
His attitude is not shared by a Galway principal, who has chosen not to subscribe to the conventional "package" but to bring parents, pupils and teachers together for a final evening of varied entertainment. Every year his debs takes place on the Friday after the Leaving Cert ends. Parents and pupils are invited to a Mass at 6.30pm. At 9pm, parents, staff and pupils sit down for a meal and from 11pm to midnight there is a presentation of awards and achievements. After this the dancing begins, and parents and teachers retreat the appropriate distance. It all runs smoothly, he tells me, and at a mere €28 per person, it doesn't break the bank.
That's cheap though. According to my straw poll, the average ticket price is €70. And this is just the beginning of the expenditure. Renting limousines has become popular in recent years, and costs about €500 a night.
The website www.debsball.ie advertises hotel packages, entertainment, florists, boutiques, salons, lingerie and horoscopes. Since Brian Kearney set it up in June, the site has been inundated with requests for advertising and receives around 10,000 visitors a month - according to its operators, anyway. The debs, they say, has become a "mini industry", and the approximately 30,000 females attending this year are spending "an average" of €1,000 each. I am told that they are investing in manicures, pedicures, full-body fake tan and even designer dresses. Beauty routines will normally begin three days before the big night.
I pick a bad time to browse through the site. It's 3pm on debs Monday, and I am still in my pyjamas. My beauty routine has not yet begun. This is not to say that I haven't spun around in my dress and considered hair and make-up. I have. Lots. But I'm not a decisive person and certainly not proactive. I also have a budget of only €50. So I decide my half-German heritage has granted me a sufficiently brown skin tone and convince myself that my two-year old flat pink shoes from Penneys are ideal. My mother's jewel necklace was chosen on the day we got the dress and I leave hair and make-up to my own devices, which may or may not be a good idea.
I keep to my budget - though admittedly I didn't pay for the ticket. Whether the "Debzillas" around me will be 20 times more polished remains to be seen.
As we queue to enter the function room, we are made to enter separately and searched. The young men have to remove their shoes and I am asked to remove my wrap. The room is spacious and reminds me of Leisureplex. There are disco balls over a copious dance floor and neon blue lights that make our teeth look luminous. For three long hours nothing happens. It is a strange time and I don't know whether to drink, dance or just casually mingle. Finally, at 11pm, dinner is announced and I wolf down my four courses.
Later, during the disco, I dwell pleasantly on the fact that if my date and I were to spend an average of €1,000 each, he would have to spend €1,950. What a catch he'd be, with that much money and that little sense. Cinderella and I remain happy in our budget rags.