The trajectory of my life has, in many ways, not been quite linear or typical (whatever that means). I was a wife at 20, a mother at 22, and didn’t start to even begin to contemplate DJing until I was 38. I love how this has worked out so far and I have zero regrets. I know so many people who look back at younger years as the funnest, most alive time they’ve ever experienced. That would scare the crap out of me, feeling that from here on out it’s all a predictable formula. I am constantly grateful to how my path has unfolded thus far. In so many ways I feel more youthful and alive than ever. Life is joyous, exciting, and a beautiful mystery if we allow it to be.
However, because I did in fact assume hugely adult roles at such a young age, which is extremely common in many religious spaces, I aged myself very early in terms of how I viewed most things. One such area where I held judgement towards myself and others was in regards to “age appropriate” clothing (this is a style post after all). My friend, Rachel, once said, “Why is everyone the self appointed Appropriate Police?”. The reasons why I didn’t feel I could wear, say, a bustier tube top when I was 28 are deeper and private, but let’s just say I’d never have worn this outfit when I was much younger in years. Never. Even if I wanted to, which I likely didn’t, I’d have thought that’s not what mothers wear. I distinctly being intensely uncomfortable 7 years ago while considering ripped jeans at Rag&Bone. I thought they were too slutty and definitely not age/mom appropriate. I did wind up buying them and I still love them, but at the time they felt extremely risqué. It’s like nothing was easy, everything had to be weighed and dissected. I also remember that when I first discovered Norma Kamali, I was horrified at some of the sexier pieces the salesperson showed me. As in aghast. She said her Brazilian clients ONLY wore such items, which made me realize that, hold on here, perhaps this is cultural and therefore not set in stone by the Appropriate Police. Perhaps it’s simply perspective, which means it can shift.
Fast Forward to right now, to these photos. I’m rocking a bustier tube top, purple feathered choker, and having the time of my life doing one of the things I love most. That hardened shell of fear, judgement, hesitation, and coloring outside imaginary lines cracked, uncovering a wellspring of inner joy and youth. I look, act, and feel years younger than I have since I was a teenager. Who decided that wearing what makes you glow is inappropriate? When I myself passed such verdicts it’s because I was jealous that I couldn’t/wouldn’t/shouldn’t. Thank god that’s over. Do I want to dress like I’m 12, of course not. I love being a 44 year old woman who carries herself with truth, dignity, light, sensuality, class, authenticity, strength, femininity, and physical embodiment.
Wear your playfulness and joy instead of wondering, where am I in my own life? You won’t get arrested and if you do, I’ll come bail you out.
