Story of a Dress

I bought this dress at NafNaf in Paris when I was seventeen, and consider it the first piece of real clothing I owned. Until then, I wore the same dingy colored khaki, denim and flannel as my peers. I tried to accessorize with vintage chains and scarves but was often met with ridicule that my timid heart could not take. Then I went to Paris, where the women look fabulous even to buy groceries. They exuded power, sensuality and softness all at once, something I'd never seen from American women. This dress was more than I'd ever spent on a piece of clothing (not too expensive, but more Banana Republic than DEB). It was buttery soft and bright pink, a color neither I nor my peers wore. It fit and felt better than anything I'd ever put on. That's when I learned that skirts make me feel like I can kick the world's ass and leaving it loving me.

Paris set free my inner fashionista, the part of me that finds sneakers impractical and sweatshirts a bore, the part of me that uses clothing as art and punctuation. Paris taught me the difference between being effortless and being apathetic. It taught me that life is too short to spend in ill-fitting jeans. Behold, the dress that marked the liberation of my femininity.

Do you have a piece of clothing you love because of it's story or what it symbolizes in your life? Send us your story with pictures, and we'll post it!