This is true when it comes to careers, to religion, to relationships, to family and to friends.
It’s trite now but “you do you” is, at its core, a powerful idea.
And when it comes to fashion, doing you means not chasing a trend, even if it speaks to you on a deep level, because it doesn’t flatter your silhouette.
That means not drastically chopping your mane because a celeb with an unfairly symmetrical face made you think you too could pull it off.
That means focusing on what you wear well and leaving the rest behind.
And that brings me to My Hard Summer Truth: It’s time for me to retire shorts.
I have no problem showing some-to-major leg, genuinely enjoy warm weather and the playful, skin-baring clothing rising temps necessitate and don’t have any terribly unsightly blemishes I’d rather keep private—unless you count the two-inch-long crescent moon-shaped scar I have from playing pirate with an x-acto knife, which was a thing I did as a kid apparently.
It’s that I’ve come to the conclusion I need to stop trying to make them work for me since as a thin but bottom-heavy gal, they are not my friends. Dresses and skirts line my closet from May to September and what’s wrong with that?
I applaud, and okay envy, those ladies with gams they’re happy to share in the season’s cool-casual uniform: denim cutoffs and a just-so slouchy tank. But that’s not for me, and if I’m honest, hasn’t been for a long time.
When I got my hips—thanks puberty!—my thighs and behind followed suit with a roundness that was hard to manoeuver as a teenager but spelled out pretty clearly that my days in shorts were numbered.
I have no regrets when it comes to wearing a piece of clothing so closely associated with warm nights, functional fashion and youthful unconcern. I wore shorts as long as it felt right for me but it doesn’t anymore.
So I’ll spend my time focusing on the things that do. Who wants to go shopping?
(Photo composite by me; denim image via etsy.com)