Today I tried out a couple of party dresses for my 30th birthday party next week. I was down to two choices which represented two different personas.
The first one was a cute turquoise braided-halter dress with flower prints at the hem. When I tried it on for the first time, I fell in love with it, mainly because it fit very well on my small frame. The second time I tried it on, however, I noticed that it revealed a lot of skin and I felt (and maybe appeared) a little naked, with my pale farmer's tan-esque upper arms and shoulders overpowering the pretty braided straps I was so impressed by previously. I realized that I no longer had the girlish figure that could wear that dress very well, and realized that I had to let go of looking like a Mischa Barton ingenue-wannabe.
The second dress was a purple va-va-voom dress that fit like a glove and gave me curves I didn't know I had (and slightly accentuated my pot belly, but in a flattering womanly way, if possible). Think sort of Isabella Rosselini's mistress character in "Big Night." It looked a little funny on me with my usual ponytail. However, I let loose the ponytail, and *voila* I transformed into a "woman" with sexy shoulder-length hair bouncing off my shoulders. This dress celebrated the fact that I had a little more meat on, compared to my earlier ingenue days. I felt like a cougar.
In the end, though, I opted to get neither of the dresses. I felt like they made me look too old.
I realized I felt more comfortable with my outfit from my 29th birthday party last year - a tank top with jeans, black flats, and a spankin' new haircut. As I walked out the clothing store, I wracked my brain for ways to re-invent myself. I thought of cutting my hair even shorter than I did last year...maybe a buzz cut? or Rihanna cut?
Then I wondered if maybe I was trying to delay the inevitable, of looking "my age" and like "a woman." I noted how resistant I was to wearing my hair down and going for the curvier dress because it seemed hyper-feminine. Was my wanting to boy-ify my hair and, essentially, my party-wear, my way of re-living my edgier college days, but now into my 30's adulthood?
I'd like to think not, and that I just happen to be a gal from the Bay Area who's in touch with her casual and funky side brewed in the mixes of Los Angeles and Boston. But who knows.
What do you think?
Image from La Dolce Vita
