Oh believe me, I so get Johnny Cash. And most of the Munsters. But as someone who has spent the last two decades wearing almost exclusively black, I’m here to say, enough is enough. Because, honestly, enough.
I own enough black clothes to dress two armies. In fact, if you saw my closet, you’d roll your eyes in black dress oh-come-on-ness. I’d tell you that I always wear black because it’s sharp. Because it matches my hair. Or my mood. Or, hey, I’m way too cool for color. Or whatever. But the reality was, I’ve thought it was the only color that looked even kind of good on me. It was slimming. And I was fat. In my head.
But the reality was, I was not fat. Not really. I was insecure. And obsessed about the notion of perfection. And beauty expectations. And model examples of how I should obviously be. I was a twenty something, thirty something, medium normal person who thought she was waay too curvy to wear anything else but black. Because black hid everything. Or something.
And then I turned 40. And then I made some color resolutions.
And one of those resolutions was to body slam my fear of a color. A color that is all colors. A color that doesn’t reveal all my curves any more than anything else. And ohmygoshsowhatwhocares even if it does. My curves are there either way. Why am I ashamed of them? And why am I rationalizing and justifying and completely hiding behind a color? Because I don’t need to. No one does.
That’s a big reason why when we were planning the Mom 2.0 Summit this year in Miami, and so many people there began saying we haad to throw a traditional Miami White Party, I thought oh no that is a terrible idea…and a ballsy awesome idea…and then I was so in and so ready to jump into (and get over) my own, self-induced, two-decades-long fear of a color. I want to stand happy in the middle of a bunch of women wearing white, and give my insecurities the finger.
My friend Jenny talks about her red dress moments. Well, I think my red dress is actually white. And I can’t wait to wear it. Even though I don’t actually know what it is yet. People have been talking a lot about the Miami White Sand White Party at Mom 2.0 this year. And I may be projecting, but it’s seeming like there are others out there who are uncomfortable (at best) with the idea of white clothing.
I get it.
I also get that there is nothing to fear.
So I played around on Polyvore last night (Have you guys spent time on Polyvore?…it’s sort of addicting.) And I came up with 10 easy, low-key, low-stress white party clothes candidates. I hope this helps and inspires…
Love it. 1 of 11Don't be scared to love white clothing.
Off white is so on. 2 of 11Or go with something a little off.
Fun. 3 of 11Or just throw some random things on. (This shirt is great!)
1970. 4 of 11Also good...tunics and jeans.
Smart. 5 of 11Or do the t-shirt/blazer thing. That's hot.
Cuter. 6 of 11Or put a bird on it.
Easy. 7 of 11Off with a chance of pink.
Cute. 8 of 11Put it together.
1965. 9 of 11Betty Draper, season 2.
So many options. 10 of 11Or just pick a one-and-done white dress. So many to find on the Internet. Don't be afraid of the white. It's all going to be alright.
1 11 of 11
I’ve also found and pinned more than 40 other cute options on my Pinterest White Party Board.
We have about two and a half weeks before we’re hitting the white sands of Key Biscayne Miami for Mom 2.0 Summit this year. And I, for one, can’t wait.
I look forward to stomping on my color fear, standing barefoot in the sand, and toasting hundreds of other beautiful, amazing women who are celebrating white hot confidence. With mojitos.