I own one, single, solitary white dress. I have never worn said dress, possibly because I’ve never had a occasion in which a white dress was appropriate, but I have put it on shuffled around my tiny apartment at least seven times. “The” white dress turned two years old in July.
Everyone counts birthdays for inanimate objects, right?
So I’ve been putting on this damn white dress, wandering around, sitting on the couch with a napkin folded in my lap eating chips and salsa (I live dangerously), and never making plans to go out INTO THE WORLD and do something. That’s not OK.
No, it is not imperative for me to wear this dress in public to live my best life, but it does speak to the comfort that we can lull ourselves into once we hit a certain age.
It happens slowly and subtly. First with a weekend to “recharge” that eventually becomes a ritual. You begin finding ways to cancel plans and hoping your significant other is also as tired as you are so you can order takeout and not put on real pants. When you do go out, you feel the quota is satisfied and you’ve earned the right to Netflix and Chill yourself for the rest of the week.
There’s no shame in wanting to “recharge” but is this living? Singledom has forced me to rethink my current situation.
I have begun the process of living again and since I have begun the process of living again I have; met people, gone on adventures, and had brunch. Big stuff. The next thing? Wear this MF dress somewhere and dance my face off.
Oh, and a red bag is ESSENTIAL.
Dress: Victoria’s Secret clearance circa 2014
Bag: MK clearance from June (probably gone forever)