Common Goods: Prom(ise me you won't ask to see my dress).

'Tis the season for posing in front of a backdrop with fake flowers in pedestal vases. Teens everywhere are booking limos, shore houses, and boat cruises. They are also spending way too much to have their hair piled on top of their head and makeup spackled on their faces, but it's all in the name of tradition, a rite of passage that shouldn't be missed. Culling prom photos from Flickr made me realize just how unfortunate many prom dresses are, so I don't have to feel bad about my own--ahem--turquoise zebra print chiffon number with matching turquoise everything (eyeliner, shawl, shoes). Yeesh. Looking back on it, I should have kept that dress on for the post-prom Seaside Heights festivities. Would have been perfect Jersey Shore wear. Here, take a look at some other peoples' prom shots because I'm not showing you mine.

It's official, in my next life I'm coming back as a girl who gets to go to prom in the early '60s.

Common Goods: Senior Year, 1988.

In the old days, when people actually developed photos and picked them up from the store in paper envelopes and flipped through them in the halls of school or on a bus or anywhere public, I was the one craning my neck to see their shots. Rude as it may have been, sneaking peeks of peoples' captured moments was a favorite past time. Now, I don't have to crane, I can just click. Flickr is overflowing with candids from peoples' collections of old snapshots. Here's a selection of shots labeled Senior Year 1988. Hello hairspray.

Pre-digital photos were the definition of candid. Closed eyes, gum chewing, awkward poses, someone's not looking. That would never happen now. Not in the instant view era. Something is lost and something is gained, I guess. I just have a soft spot for the old ones. I miss the feel of glossy photo paper on my fingertips, but I love the glow of a screen.

Common Goods: Put On A Party Hat. Feel Better.

In case you hadn't noticed, I'm trying to shake off the shell shock of yesterday. I'm trying to reinvigorate what is supposed to be a fashion fan's most wonderful time of the half year. It's Fashion Week and I can't feel it. What can help? Oh, I know! Party hats from the 1970s!

Thanks Flickr. That helped.

Common Goods: Ballers.

My favorite part of The Superbowl yesterday, as it is with any football game, were the tackles. I love the visual of guys running full speed at each other followed by the crunch sound of gear making impact against gear, helmets crashing into one another, thuds. It's a cacophony of chaos that always leaves me asking how in the hell do they do that to their bodies again and again. A big reason why they can do that again and again is because of their protective padding and helmets. But, there was a time when those things were not a part of standard uniforms. A little trip down football history lane via The Commons reveals that protective gear wasn't always standard. It's shocking to see players on the field with no helmets, no giant shoulder pads, thin little shoes.

You know who is dressed properly? The coach! Look at him, walking the field in a three piece suit on practice day, and with a hat no less. Amazing. If only they still had such levels of gentlemanly dress, I'd be more interested in The Big Game. I am glad the players wear helmets now though. Big improvement.

Common Goods: You Make Me Feel So Much Better.

I know a lot of people are unnerved by the site of medical uniforms. I guess there's no better reminder of your fragile mortality than setting your eyes on people who are employed to do nothing more than fix you when you break. I have a different feeling when I spot a nurse's uniform: total comfort. My school nurse was a fetchingly maternal red head named Mrs. Melamed, and as a burgeoning hypochondriac I visited her every chance I got. I found reasons to need band-aids, tissues, a drink of water, those cheese/peanutbutter cracker packs she had in her office, anything just so I could show up in front of her and know that I was ok. She made me feel safe. She also called my parents and ratted me out as a frequent visitor, but it's ok; I forgive her. In honor of my fond memories of nurse Melamed, here are some Common Goods:

Don't you just feel better now?

Common Goods: Box It Out.

Nice belt, boy.

Boys (especially my straight boys), you know you wanna play dress up sometimes, right? I feel sad for you every once in a while because I want you to play dress up too. Us girls, we get to wear makeup and high heels and colors and patterns and have our hair done and paint our nails. I mean, I know you could do that if you wanted, but in general, you stick to the basics, the neutrals, the plain, the undone. It makes me a little sad for you. I feel like you miss out a little; like a bit of your soul is secretly crying to be set free. Until I remember that you have sports. The outfits! The gear! The colorful fan wear, the face paint, the uniforms! It's your version of playing dress up and you like it even more than painting your nails because there is competition involved, aggression is encouraged, and you can possibly see people bleed. You love it. And, I love it because there is an element of fashion in your sports. You don't see it? Well, consider these fantastic portraits of boxers from The Library of Congress's photostream on The Commons:

The flashy finery of the championship belts is enough to prove my point, but check out the unitards and lace up boots; the gloves and striped shorts. It's all so wonderful, like costumes we call uniforms instead. Yes, form follows function when it comes to sports gear, but really there is a filter of aesthetics too: the flourish of something rather than the strict usefulness of it. It's all there in sports, guys. It's settled, this is your dress-up.

And, because these shots blew my mind, take a look at the Boxing Bennet Sisters and Mrs. Edwards and partner in action:

Amazing, right? Who knew they let girls punch each other in the 1910s? Where is the biopic on these ladies? I demand one.