I was at the coffee shop the other day and encountered the incredible Black woman managing the store. I see her all the time. And, somehow, I believe we have a silent connection. You know, the ones Black girls automatically inherit in spaces where there aren’t many of us?
Like, I know without a doubt, each time she looks at me, she’s saying in her head… I’ve got you, girl, mainly because I’m saying and thinking the same thing. We’re on each other’s team by default, and I feel it every time I see her pretty face, hear a compliment, or see her smiling back at me.
I don’t make the rules of Black sisterhood. I follow them.
The other day, she halted in her stride, lifting her head and then lowering it. Her lips were pursed. Her eyes were wide with pride. And, inside, I was already prepared for the words about to roll off her tongue.
“Well, don’t you look cute, girl! I love it. Headed somewhere?”
“To your table over there where I’ve set my things down to reserve my seat,” I chuckled. “No place to be. No occasion. I feel better when I am pleasantly dressed. I’ve challenged myself for the next week. It’s an experiment of sorts.”
It wasn’t an explanation. It was an invitation. It was my way of admitting what I’d always known.
I feel better when I am pleasantly dressed. It doesn’t matter how simple or complex the attire. If it fits well, pairs well, looks remarkable, and keeps me out of the pits of my emotions, then I consider it a hit.
On the days I dress like shit, I feel every bit of it. And that’s why it’s been so important to show up for myself during my favorite season—the season of emotional and mental decline.
Maybe… just maybe that’s why it’s called fall, huh? You’re just falling apart, so winter can wrap you in its cold and put you back together.
I’m kidding.
But… my stance remains the same. Getting dressed has saved my sanity this season. I feel my best on days I consider the worst because I slid into my Prada loafers instead of the furry slides. I chose denim instead of sweats. I picked the monochrome pair instead of mixing colors that didn’t match the mood. I traded the oversized sweatshirt for a fitted, buttery top and a tailored jacket.
I walked into every room looking exactly how I wanted to feel, and that shit happens to be contagious.
But, just last night, I realized I’d been getting it wrong when it comes to putting on clothes, and maybe you have, too.
It’s November and we’ve all been feeling every fucking thing. So much so, we’ve collectively forgotten the undeniable power of that quiet ritual that saves our sanity every time it’s remembered.
honored.
considered.
planned.
manifested.
completed.
It’s not rocket science. It’s not a dissertation. It doesn’t require a degree. It doesn’t require much of a sacrifice.
Like tomatoes, cucumbers, peppers, pumpkins, and olives are often mistaken for veggies… This simple act is often categorized as a routine rather than a ritual. There’s hardly anything further from the truth.
Because, as I’ve said before—
Rituals are those things that relieve you of the mental stress life tends to carry. Rituals lighten your load–mentally, physically, and emotionally. Rituals feel good, and they make you feel good. Rituals calm your soul and hum to your heart. Rituals cater to the ideal of ease and simplicity. Rituals are nurturing.
Soul-stirring.
Quieting.
Slow.
Savory.
Still.
Memorable.
Peaceful.
Followed not forced.
Rituals are the bread and butter for the feminine woman.
“Sunday nights are for resetting.”
“Mondays are for pilates.”
“My manicure is scheduled for every second Tuesday of the month, because they are my slowest and least demanding days.”
“I don’t cook on Fridays. I rest.”
“I wear my good slippers on Saturday and Sunday evenings.”
“I add bubbles to my bath three times a week.”
“I light a candle every Friday night to welcome the weekend.”
“I change my handbag every three days.”
“I have a latte by seven every morning.”
“My morning brew pairs well with my writing tasks in the early hours.”
“I only make hair appointments for Saturdays.”
“I rotate my closet every season.”
“I don’t send messages or take calls after seven.”
“I visit nature at noon every day.”
“I read four pages of my current book every night under candlelight.”
Rituals are invisible boundaries that remind you to take care. They make you feel better, lighter, and lovelier. They’re tiny little love letters to your inner self. They’re something you’re always in control of, even when you feel like you’re losing control of everything else.
Life feels better when you actually get to add bubbles to three baths that week. Or when you have that latte by seven every day in the month of June. Or when you rotate your closet for spring. Or when you actually rest instead of cooking on Friday. Or when you read those four pages under candlelight.
That’s why feminine women have rituals, and they are hardly associated with their routine. Routines usually involve other people and their needs/desires, and the things that must be done. Rituals are selfish. Routines are (usually) selfless.
Femininity requires the peace rituals supply.
So, that forgotten ritual that silently saves our sanity?
Getting dressed.
I don’t mean tossing on the biggest shirt and oversized sweats in your wardrobe.
I mean setting the tone of your day with each piece you put on your body.
I mean determining you’re going to be the best version of yourself by the shoes you choose.
I mean carefully selecting your top and bottom to help de-center the downpour of your emotions.
I mean really considering the colors you’re choosing and being sure they match the mood you want for the day… not the one you have.
I mean putting on those pieces you plan to save for the special occasion when all along you are the occasion.
I mean dressing for the part. Not just the one you’re playing, but the one you are auditioning for every day you get up and start your day.
I mean finding the courage to get dressed despite what’s happening around you.
Getting dressed, I mean really getting dressed, is an instant boost to our mental, emotional, and sometimes financial situations. Pulling yourself together brings about change and hope during moments when you feel hopeless.
I discovered things during that personal challenge… You know the one I told my coffee shop girlfriend (again, I don’t make the rules) about?
Yes. That one. Here’s what I learned.
Your visibility increases exponentially.
People pay more attention to things and people who look well put together. People who look like they have their shit together are almost ALWAYS well-dressed. Putting on clothes makes others aspire to be something more… feel something more… study something more… want something more… create something more… do something better. Even if it’s just wearing that outfit they’ve been telling themselves they should save. You’re a walking billboard, an inspirational structure, when you’re dressed.
Your productivity feels less like a privilege and more like an inevitability.
It was bound to happen. It was supposed to happen. How could it not? When dressed, there’s hardly anything on my to-do list that won’t get done. In fact, on the days you’re truly well-dressed and your mood has shifted in the right direction, you can expect to overachieve.
If you work for yourself, put a few extra tasks on the list because they’re going to get done before your internal alarm lets you know you’ve done enough for the day.
If you work for someone else, clock out after your tasks are complete or ride out the rest of your day on autopilot.
You do not shy away from opportunities.
You’re more inclined to take them. You’re already dressed for the part. And that’s not to say that fabric makes you more deserving. No. Effort does. And, that’s the entire point of this post.
Opportunities you would’ve turned down or not even inquired about automatically become yours when you pull yourself together by the threads of your garment.
Other discoveries worth mentioning:
Your energy improves as the day continues.
Your light shines brighter.
You have an automatic icebreaker/conversation starter. (I love that blazer. Where’d you get that from?)
There’s a high chance you’re going to meet your next best friend/associate/pal.
It’s tiring but worth the effort.
You begin to build an incredible wardrobe.
More people are inclined to include your opinion, thoughts, and suggestions.
You smile more.
Compliments are plentiful.
You make more connections.
Your sense of pride is undeniable.
It’s Friday. Don’t wait until Monday to start. And, don’t avoid starting because it’s the weekend.
Get dressed.
Get DRESSED.
Get up and get dressed.
xo,
grey
“It was bound to happen. It was supposed to happen. How could it not? When dressed, there’s hardly anything on my to-do list that won’t get done.” I felt that!
Yall know I love any reason to get dressed, this was a great reminder!