This morning we talked about attending the city parade, so I threw on my best patriotic-but-not-cheesy attire. A white skirt and a red tee.
Every time I put on this particular outfit I am reminded of my second non-date with Andrew (he was sneaky...I was never willing to date the guy and somehow we were engaged 2 months later). Of course, even though we weren't dating, I still wanted to look cute. The fact of the matter - perhaps, obviously - is that I did like him. I remember being quite self-conscious at dinner, as the outfit seemed a bit racy to my usually very modest sentiments. I suppose it accented my then-22-year-old figure.
As I wear it now during the summer, I am still aware that it reveals more than February's attire...but I think that is because it is summer. If I dressed like February...I would over-heat and turn into monster mom/wife/friend (I don't do well with heat). What I have noticed is that I feel far less racy in it now. Perhaps because it accentuates my now-27-year-old, I've-had-two-children-by-cesarean-section figure. I think the fact of the matter is that 22-year-olds are racy, mother's are not. Not to say mothers aren't sexy in their own right and perhaps even in a fuller sense of the word and in a richer demonstration of womanhood...they just cease to be racy.
I suppose it is an independence of sorts!