I used to be almost dowdy in my style. I hid inside bulky tops and oversize jackets and long shapeless hair. My sense of style didn't truly evolve until my late twenties. I think it had something to do with those adorable demon children who erupted from my midsection. I mean, your body starts bulging and your boobs get all huge and suddenly you start thinking, Damn, I need to OWN this. Which I did. No maternity muumuus for this preggo, peoples! I made sure to wear clothes that flattered my body as much as possible, pregnancy and all. I was CUTE, dammit.
And once the parasites were sucking my life force from without rather than within, I found I had no desire to return to my older-than-I really-am look. Plus a former friend introduced me to H & M, which is MY STORE, yo, and I discovered that I can look both sexy and professional. Or just plain sexy, when not at work, without crossing that line into hoochie-mama.
I don't shop at Forever 21, you see. There are lines you just don't cross in your thirties. Just sayin'.
So on Saturday I was dressed for a night on the town when I stopped by Walmart with a friend. I was pretty sure I looked awesome, but I hadn't worn this particular outfit before. So there was always the possibility that I was deluding myself. I was wearing my gorgeous new boots with skinny jeans (only worn under boots, people, unless you're size 0, which I am NOT) and one of my favorite dressy tops that has this embroidered collar reminiscent of West Africa.
As we walked toward the entrance, a middle-aged African American woman walked by us. She grinned at me and called out, You go, Girl!
Now you know that when that happens, you're rockin' it Big Time.
I think my life may be complete.
3 years ago