Some people dress to impress.

I dress to reflect my energy; sometimes quite literally wearing my heart on my sleeve. Using clothes as an expression of myself is nothing new to me. I remember the days as a teen when I wore bright colors and rocker tees to highlight the unique contradictions of my personality.

Then there was the lost phase in college when I wore the closest thing I owned to fit into whatever trend was hot at the moment. A representation of me trying to fit into popular culture. The metaphor for that phase is trying to squeeze cup size double Ds into an XS tube top; it wasn’t a fit.

Now I find myself here.

Crop tops, lace, high waisted jeans, lingerie, comfy shoes, and clutches. I wear beautiful simplistic clothing as a reflection of myself. This self portrait is one that defies others definition of who I am and how I should be. To say the least I’m not your traditional definition of modest in my dressing. I embrace my sensuality and celebrate features of my body once ridiculed. Small waist. Long legs. Zero hips.

Redefining the way I dress helps me to let go of  the kind woman the world thinks I should be. 



I use to dress for others people’s reflection of me. I’d tone down my outfits to save an argument or create comfort. Until I understood that people like men already have enough say over what women wear.

That spills into our subconscious and presents itself as “morals & values” when I’m quietly told not to show THAT much skin or post too many pictures in THAT kind of outfit. I would often ask myself how another would feel if I wore what I wanted; I now only ask myself how I would feel.

Would I feel powerful? Would I feel honest? What about sexy? Free? These words have become a routine for me. Only placing against my skin what represents or brings out those emotions.

Sometimes I have my own photo shoots. Especially now when staying home is no longer just an option but a mandate. I pair my confusing emotions with articles of clothing. Sweet and sensual. Tomboyish and sexy. Carefree and simple.

Clothing is so much more than what we wear. It can represent what we feel. My Complicated love affair began as a teenager and has continued into my womanhood.

This affair will last until I’m old and the world tries to tell me what’s “appropriate” for a woman my age. Even then my clothes will help me rebel. Help me hide or confront. Because they help me be…me.


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