September 20, 2018

About a Dress

Yes, I’m writing about a dress. Allow me to explain; this dress has resided in my closet for years. I rarely wear it, yet I couldn’t resist having it photographed, sensing it held a deeper meaning or symbol. Why do I cling to it? Moreover, why does it remain unworn? My closet undergoes constant edits, driven by limited space and the unfortunate reality of some items no longer fitting. I’ve always embraced the ‘less is more’ philosophy, making space for fresh additions. So, the fact that this dress is still lingering in my closet continues to baffle me.

If I’m being entirely honest with myself, and yes, I’m overthinking this. I hear you saying, ‘WTF, it’s just a dress!’ Yes, but don’t we overthink a lot of things? Isn’t there something or someone we like to hang on to or cling to? Perhaps we’re unsure if it’s due to a memory or a fantasy. Are you following? My dress represents something from my past. It was an expensive purchase, and the person I wanted to notice me was ignoring me. It didn’t matter what I was wearing; I felt defeated in the end. Here’s the thing: I have moved on from that moment, promising myself I never want to experience that feeling again. I deserve to be with someone special who will notice me, appreciate me, and make time for me. Maybe I’m hanging on to a fantasy?

I have to believe that going forward, it’s not really about the dress; it’s the emotions and feelings attached to a moment. In the meantime, I will be trying on new dresses (any excuse to go shopping), ensuring they fit perfectly in all the right places, curves and all. As for a special someone, they also need to fit in all the right places, fitting perfectly with me.



The comments +

  1. I have a dress just like it. It’s been in my closet for over three years, even moving with me to my first “single mom” home. I only wore it once, and it made me feel amazing and beautiful and confident – but it didn’t matter. That’s where the memory ends, there was no Cinderella moment where he finds me and can’t believe his good fortune. There is no memory of beaming pride when he saw me cross that crowded cocktail party to get to him, actually he almost didn’t introduce me to the group he was standing amongst. The dress fit me like a glove, in a shape and size I worked incredibly hard to be, a shape and size I no longer resemble. But I keep it in my closet anyway. I’ve given away most of my “dress up” clothes and pieces that no longer fit, but I consciously keep this one dress. Hope? Possibly. To fit it again one day, maybe. But mostly to have a reason, or a someone, that would make me want to be able to wear it again knowing that it would finally get its happy ending with all of the good memories it deserves. Keep the dress.

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