Mar 23, 2010
There is a dress I wear that has a reputation. It's long, it's black, its cotton and spandex, and it has jewels below my cleavage drawing the eye to what I like to think is my heart's center and source of intoxicating strength. It's the kind of dress you wear with just a slip - nothing else underneath. This is of course the kind of information that would make everyone in the office think naughty thoughts all day. This of course is the kind of information that makes me think naughty thoughts all day. There is something sexy about it's power, and sad about the fact it can come to nothing. It's overt, it's enticing, and it's intimidating.
Truthfully, it's not work appropriate, but with a strategically placed cardigan, it can pass.
Clothes have memories and this dress is fractured with flashes of passionate glances and painful denial. It has attended important events, led meaningful conversations, been on the arms of ambitious dates, and sat on unimportant sofas waiting to be noticed. I look to the arrival of spring and the opportunity to invite it out of my closet and into the world. It's a dress that reminds me beauty can be lonely, sexuality is something often best held at bay, and some hungers are better left un-fed.