It’s Valentine’s Day, ladies and gents, which means all things red, rosy, and glittery have been thrust in your face, ad nauseum—so I apologize in advance for adding to the noise. On principle alone, I should be rejecting one of the most commodified holidays of all. Consumerism is hardly cause for celebration, and celebration hardly defined by consumption, but on this occasion I make an exception. (In fact, I can’t help but subscribe to it.) Any occasion to indulge in thematic dressing is a welcome excuse for eccentricity. Unleash an alter ego. Unveil my inner drag queen.
Of course, dressing up requires no justification—but for the shy, it’s an opportunity to explore without self-perceived judgment. (For the adventurous, it provides greater incentive to push boundaries.) If ever there was hesitation to explore your (own idea of) sensuality, Valentine’s Day is it. Discover it. Test it. Define, refine, and rewrite your own idea of femininity as many times as you desire.
Enjoy it. Every last, delicious second.
. . .
xx
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