One of my favorite bloggers, Jenny Lawson of ‘The Bloggess’, started a project called ‘The Traveling Red Dress,’ which is this incredibly awesome movement that encourages women to buy, share, and/or wear a wildly fabulous red dress in hope that “they could pass a little magic into the lives of people who are celebrating a milestone, battling an enemy, or simply in need of a shiny red ball gown to remind them how amazing they are.” The dress doesn’t have to be red. It doesn’t even have to be a dress. The red dress is anything you’ve always wanted but have denied yourself because you were self-conscious or thought it would be seen as silly.
It isn’t. And anyone who suggests otherwise simply hasn’t had a red dress of their own.
My red dress isn’t red. I’ve called it ‘leopard print’ more times than I can count, but when I tried it on this morning (it finally fits!!), I realized it’s technically tiger-striped. With gold flecks. It’s HEINOUS. Really, truly, hideously, awesomely ugly. A year ago I couldn’t have pulled it over my head. Heck, six months ago I would’ve looked like a sausage about to burst from its casing. But now the 3/4 sleeves are smooth, the fitted waist makes me look super curvy, and my boobs – oh, dear Lord! – my boobs are reaching for the sky in this dress. So I wore it around the house with the sluttiest shoes I own.
And rest assured, I owned that ugly fucking dress.