When I was just six years old, I accompanied my mom on a grocery run and spotted a woman in pantyhose, striking red heels, and bold blue eyeshadow. I was utterly captivated; she embodied the vibrant spirit I felt inside. On our way home, I excitedly insisted to my mom that I needed those exact items right away. I dreamed of stopping at Sears or flipping through the Montgomery Ward catalog to order them.
But my hopes were dashed when she told me I’d have to wait until I was 16. I felt like I might explode sitting in the backseat of our Caprice Classic. When we arrived home, I stormed off to my room, crying and layering on cherry chapstick in a desperate attempt to mimic the look I craved. Ten more years of waiting to express my true self was simply not an option.
Unlike many, I didn’t grow up on a diet of Disney fairy tales, waiting for a prince to whisk me away. My desire to wear beautiful shoes, elegant jewelry, and lovely dresses stemmed solely from my wish to reflect how I felt inside.
Fast forward nearly 38 years, and I still feel most authentic when I dress up. Whether I’m heading to a fancy restaurant or just the grocery store, slipping on heels transports me to my happy place. Styling my hair uplifts my spirit. When I pull on a favorite dress or pair of jeans, it’s like I’m wearing my true self—comfortable and confident.
I first donned heels in seventh grade, having pilfered my mom’s red stilettos to sneak to school. In college, while my peers opted for Birkenstocks and baseball caps—a look that didn’t resonate with me—I embraced wrap skirts, dresses, and polished nails.
Throughout my life, I’ve been asked why I choose to dress up so often—more times than I can count. Questions range from curious to downright incredulous: “Where are you going?” or “Why do you dress up all the time?” My answer is simple: I do it for me. It brings me joy and allows my exterior to match my inner self.
Sure, I enjoy the comfort of leggings and a T-shirt occasionally, but investing time in my appearance makes me feel alive. Hearing the click of my heels on the ground is invigorating. If dressing up gives me a mental boost, why wouldn’t I embrace it?
As a mother of three living in a small town, some might say I don’t blend in—like my eldest son, who wishes I’d tone it down. But I refuse to shrink myself to fit into a box I don’t belong in. If I want to wear stilettos, I will, regardless of my destination.
I have no issue with what others choose to wear; I would never question someone’s decision to wear sweatpants or leave their hair unstyled. Yet, for some reason, many feel the need to interrogate my choice to get dressed up.
Even when I stand out, whether in thigh-high boots at the gas station or at family gatherings, I don’t feel out of place. I don’t check with friends about what they’re wearing for girls’ night because I’ll wear what I love regardless.
I’ll always remember that woman from 1981, buying iceberg lettuce in her patent leather heels. It wasn’t just what she wore; it was how her clothes made her feel that resonated with me.
Here’s to dressing however you please without needing justification. If you’re looking for me, I’ll be at the grocery store in my red heels.
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In summary, dressing up is my form of self-expression. It’s not about impressing others; it’s about feeling good in my own skin. I encourage everyone to embrace their style, no matter the occasion.
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