Growing up my aunt use to tell me, “You have to go through pain to be beautiful.” She would say this as she was ripping my hair out from the root, brushing it to get my fly aways smooth.
Twenty years later I still shudder at those memories, but I am also reminded of how true they are. Living in a city, I walk everywhere! While I have been lucky enough to date men who can sympathize with fashion and do the gentlemanly thing by calling a car at the end of the night for my poor pitiful feet. Or in the rarity carried me. (If you find a man who will carry you for ten blocks, he is a keeper!) it still has not been a walk in the city. Literally.
Looking good is hard. Especially in the city.
Those glamorous celebrities you see? Either they had the nerves removed from their feet (it is a real surgery, dancers and athletes have it done) they are inebriated or high as a kite, or they really are great at their jobs and can hide their mental expletives on repeat in their heads. In which case they deserve that Oscar.
With the likes of Carol Burnett and even Posh Spice herself coming out and promoting comfort, there is hope.
Still their is no denying that Ugg slippers and Asics do not go with skinny jeans and tunics.
Living in a city where botox is as common as hailing a cab, and their are such things as dress code, those who choose comfort are few and far between.
As women, we wax, foil, nip, tuck, fill and foil at the slightest blemish. While most of us don’t go to the extremes of plastic surgery. We still invoke torture on ourselves.
Waxing? I don’t know what woman enjoys waxing, and this coming from a woman who has a very high pain tolerance. It is a lamaze class on steroids, while trying to control the fact I really want to kick my waxer, as she puts hot wax on areas of high delicate sensitivity. Seriously the defense department should hire her. Terrorists would break in seconds.
Oh yes, being a woman is so much fun.
Trying to shimmy into leather pants is a workout, or wearing heels gives your calfs a better workout then a hundred calf raises, fashion is a form of torture. Glamorous torture. But torture non the less.
And while I could get all feminist and ask why do we do this to ourselves. We are women. We don’t need to do this. Blah. Blah. Blah.
The fact is, I love it. I love how a great pair of heels makes my legs look. It gives me confidence to strut down that street and own who I am.
That is fashion. Yes, there are kooky trends and I refuse to wear them, because being en vogue doesn’t necessarily instill confidence. Feeling good does. Knowing my makeup looks flawless, despite poking my eye out with mascara, gives me the confidence to look anyone in the eye and dare them to not give me that job.
Fashion is my armor to take on the world. Miuccia Prada once said: “What you wear is how you present yourself to the world, especially today when human contacts go so fast. Fashion is instant language.”
And that is truth.
What I wear. How I look, is how I feel on the inside. When I am dressed up, hair makeup a kick ass outfit, the works, I feel I can take on the world. I feel empowered. For me. And that is the most important take away. Fashion is about you. No one else. If you want to wear those kick ass heels do it! Just remember to slip flip flops in your clutch for that walk home.
