Why we need to reject the cultural invasion of the prom

COCA Cola, McDonald’s, Uber, Amazon, Black Friday sales, inexplicably making a big deal out of Halloween, and calling Christmas “the holidays”.

All are American imports and all are not necessarily welcome, depending on your point of view.

They are symbolic of the ongoing Americanisation of our society alongside the cringeworthy and incorrect addition of the letter Z to words like “organize” and the increasing use of nonsense words like “burglarize” in the common lexicon.

And while seeing these words makes me physically twitch with pain as if someone is running their fingernails down a blackboard nothing bothers me more than the latest import – the school prom.

Perhaps it was inevitable, given the pervasive nature of American films about high school, that this would be another pointless and overblown tradition we would adopt.

But it seems to have gained traction over the past few years and now a whole industry, which I’ve read is worth £80m a year, has sprung up around it.

Even stranger is that it’s not just high school leavers going to prom now but also children leaving primary school.

I won’t identify my source – except to say they are younger and more in touch than me – but Year 6 pupils are now having a prom when they leave for high school.

Not only that but just like their peers they have their make-up done, spray tans, hair done, nails done and fork out for frocks and suits.

As someone with a five-year-old this concerns me.

Is Luke going to be worried about getting a date and looking right for an event he’s likely to hate in a few years’ time?

Thankfully I don’t have a girl as she’d surely despise me for not wanting to fork out for her to look like a mini Miss World contestant.

Little girls have always played with make-up – even me, although I also pretended I was in the A-Team.

As a child I adored the old make-up and perfume samples my mum had kept from her time as a Vanda agent (I think it was a bit like Avon) and which she passed onto me to play shops with.

I also used the terrible make-up that came with Girl’s World on myself and felt so grown up when I got treated to products from Avon’s Little Blossom range, like talc, wash-off nail tint, rouge that made me look like Aunt Sally from Worzel Gummidge (if you’re under 35 ask your mum about this) and perfume.

But now, my source informs me, mums are buying expensive MAC Cosmetics for their 10-year-olds – foundation from this range costs more than £20 – and ensuring they have spray tans so their designer gowns look right.

My generation didn’t even venture out with our cheap blue eyeshadow from Boots, Bodyshop dewberry perfume, and Sweater Shop jumpers on until we were well into our teens and even then we were the epitome of awkward.

If we were lucky one of the dads dropped us off at a school or youth club disco in his Ford Sierra.

Nowadays millennial children take hired pink limos or Hummers to their prom, where they crown a king and queen on a stage.

And there’s no draghty school halls or rundown community centres for this lot. It’s hospitality suites and five-star hotels all the way. I wonder who is actually benefiting from all of this. Does the love children feel increase with the amount parents spend on outfits and cosmetics? Do youngsters gain confidence from taking part in an awkward and, quite frankly, outdated ritual? Is it really a life-affirming rite of passage in a young life or an expensive disappointment? I fear it’s the latter.

Where’s good old-fashioned British antipathy when it’s needed? We need to start rejecting this cultural invasion just like we have with American confectionery.

While chocolate from the US might come in fancy packaging and look good it tastes awful and leaves me feeling sick to my stomach, just like school proms.