10 Debutantes from 10 different cities, all appearing in Houston at the Shamrock for something called (officially or unofficially) the Givenchy Ball... It was an added attraction for the customary Opera Ball given to benefit/celebrate Houston Grand Opera, and I trapped myself into representing Houston.
Two seasons before, I had been delivered reluctantly to the hallowed rite of Houston society’s most precious passage, the debutante Presentation Ball of Allegro... I had argued for months with my parents over the fact that this was not part of my great plan for life (I believe the words ‘not wanting to be sacrificed on the altar of society’ was my mantra)... refusing to be one until my father explained the theory of paying for my last year of college (as in, he wouldn’t if I didn’t). This logic proved eventually to be convincing, as my degree was to be my ‘road to freedom’... so I learned the St. James court bow (years of ballet at Miss Fanthom’s), practiced walking and smiling (a summer spent at Miss Kennerly’s Finishing Ranch... are we seeing a pattern here?) and made it through the overwhelming sense of ‘Here I Am! Ta-Dah!’ I was too shy to enjoy.
Two years later, out of college and working in New York, I was chosen to represent Houston at the aforementioned Opera Ball, the reason being that I had sung HGO chorus for several seasons besides being a deb. My job was swiftly going nowhere, so I thought I’d talk Walter Hoving, President of Tiffany’s (my boss in NY at the time) into allowing his jewelry from the newly-opened Houston store to be shown with the gowns... and my selling point was that one of the debs for this event was Tricia Nixon’s new sister-in-law, Mary Ann Cox. I accepted the ‘gig’, Tiffany’s backed out and I went to Houston on my own dime. Houston Grand Opera held a Tiffany Ball several years later. So much for the world of finagle and job-enhancement...
The Givenchy gown I wore to the ball was my mother's... spectacular, covered in beads and quite heavy. The gown for the runway (ah, yes, there was a runway) was more demure... Hairdressers had been sent down by Givenchy to coif us a la runway-style, and my look went from the mod ’60’s Vidal Sassoon look I had acquired in NY to something with pigtails out of Hansel/Gretel, but quite chic for the dress, apparently. My mother wore the ball gown herself several times, I wore it once again years later until my sylphlike self of the ‘Twiggy’ years began to resemble a normal person’s...
The society articles in those days, written by Beverly Maurice of the Chronicle, Betty Ewing of the Post, were often filled with lines like: ‘adrift in a sea of white chiffon’... and this ball in particular had attention to details like Faberge-style antique cigarette cases, decorator Harry Rice’s ‘fantasy forest of twinkling white willows’... I think creating images of society’s elite and their resplendent lifestyles was all part of society page erudition of the times. Truthfully... I had a good time (escort: longtime friend Paul Kelly), though my shoes hurt and my hair hurt and the dress was... very heavy.
Thanks for asking me to submit something for Debutantes Run Wild!, it makes me feel life comes full circle once in awhile.
-Diana Linder
Protocol Committee
Debutantes Run Wild!
(pictured above)
