By:Elizabeth Sagarin
Going to the prom in a limousine, for many students, is like taking a Regents exam: It's a given.
For others, it's less logical.
When Valerie Carriciolo of Island Park and her boyfriend, Sean Clarke, heard that going to the West Hempstead prom in usual style was going to cost nearly $1,000, they decided it wasn't worth the expense.
"I didn't want to spend the money," said Carriciolo, who works two jobs, at the Gap and Hollywood Video.
But after hearing classmates talk about buying dresses and getting their hair and nails done, thoughts of attending were rekindled, Carriciolo said.
She invited input from friends and family and then became convinced that she'd regret not going. "When my family tells me something, they're usually right," she said, dipping a carrot into some salad dressing.
Although her boyfriend, a 1999 graduate of Freeport High School, said he didn't regret skipping his prom, he'd be supportive if his girlfriend for the past year wanted to go to hers. "Whatever makes her happy," Clarke said.
However, this time the couple decided to make plans that wouldn't break the bank.
They joined up with Carriciolo's best friend and fellow graduate, Tara Sykes, who also wasn't sold on spending $1,000. But although they were in agreement about not renting a limo, the couples weren't willing to completely compromise going in style.
So, Sykes' boyfriend, Jaime Shaw of Long Beach, managed to borrow a Lexus truck from a family friend for the couples to travel in.
Other than that, the couples spared no expense.
Carriciolo wore a long, burgundy, iridescent, satin dress designed by Jessica McClintock that was matched by Clarke's bowtie and cumberbund. Her hair was swept in twists and curled by a hair stylist at Paradise Salon in Island Park. A French manicure lined with sparkles adorned her perfectly smooth acrylic tips.
Sykes was pretty in pink: The bodice embroidered with a swirling design meeting a long skirt of satin and chiffon; her hair up, in a series of complicated twists; Jaime on her shoulder in a modern-version tuxedo.
And like other classmates, they gathered for chips, soda and photos with family and friends in front of Carriciolo's house. Except that when they're chariot arrived, they opened their own doors.
"I'm sure it's going to be fun," Sykes said while she lifted her dress and stepped up into the front seat of the truck.