Throwback Thursday — When I Finally Wore My Perfect Date Dress

9 04 2015

Hey y’all, it’s Thursday, and I’m preparing to make my way to celebrate a friend’s birthday in Las Vegas!! And since I was slack and didn’t give you all a blog post on Tuesday (sorry!), I figured the least I could do was post one of my faves from last year around this time. Spring is in the air, it’s sundress time, folks are going to start going on more dates now, and for me, it’s the perfect reason to have a good #tbt blog post about the time I wore one of my favorite sundresses on a pretty amazing date.

Hope you enjoy!


We didn't exactly look like this, but it felt prett darn close... Photo:

We didn’t exactly look like this, but it felt prett darn close…

It was a little less than a year ago now, but I still remember it like it was yesterday — the day I finally wore my perfect date dress.

If you’ll recall I’d purchased this dress some time ago, not with the knowledge that it would be a perfect date dress at all. But once I got home, tried it on with some heels and a cardigan, I knew. I knew that the only place it could be worn was a date so perfect that it suited how I felt in that dress.

And how I felt was happy, sexy, confident, giddy, pretty, alluring, and more. It was, in a phrase, a dress that made me feel special.

So I waited and waited and waited to wear it because the last thing I wanted to do was to waste that kind of dress on a date that wasn’t worthy. You may think that’s a lot of pressure to put on a dress… and you’d be right. What I inadvertently did was put so much pressure on the notion of wearing the dress, no potential date became good enough.

In fact, I went on quite a few dates between when I bought the dress and when I wore it. And each time I had a chance to wear it, I thought, hmmm I don’t know — I don’t think this guy or this date is special enough. And so I put it back in the closet, maybe to wear for the next time.

What I should have realized at the time, and what I realized much later on, was that the dress was symbolic for how I felt about those men in general, but also about me. I mean, who says to herself, “this guy isn’t special enough for a certain dress”? I should have immediately asked myself afterwards, “well then why are you going out with him?”

But because we rarely realize those things in the moment, I didn’t ask myself that question. Instead, I dated… and I waited… for the guy and the date who would make me want to feel pretty and alluring and sexy and confident and happy and giddy and special all at once.

That date finally happened last summer.

What’s remarkable is that there was nothing particularly special about the date. It wasn’t some grand production or fancy occasion. We basically walked around the city, talking and joking while my arm was wrapped inside of his, and finally made our way to the restaurant where we had dinner and pretty much spent the next four hours laughing.

It was fun, sure. And we had a great time. And the dress did make me feel everything I thought it would when I finally wore it for more than just my eyes to see.

But what was most important to me about that night (and actually what was the part that made the moment so awesome) was that I finally stopped waiting to wear the danged thing. I realized something that I’ve also since realized about my writing and my work and my heart — that until you share it with others, it’s just a pretty dress hanging in the closet. It has no meaning and no memories associated with it. It is, for lack of a better word, dead.

It’s not until I wore it and allowed someone else to see how beautiful it looked on me that the dress truly came alive. Now, it is not just a generic perfect date dress, one where I could imagine how I would feel wearing it with the guy I like. It’s the dress I was wearing when the guy I like looked at me and couldn’t stop smiling. It’s the dress I was wearing when I took the initiative and slipped my arm around his (that’s big for me, yall!).

It’s the dress I was wearing when I decided to stop waiting for life to be perfect before I enjoyed it.

This dress has memories now. It has a story. And even if it wouldn’t have turned out well that night, although I’m very glad it did, it still would have been for the best that I finally pulled it out of the closet.

Do you all have anything like that, that reminds you of a time when you made a pivotal decision for yourself?


Throwback Thursday — In Honor of Montana: Giving Thanks

20 11 2014

This past Monday marked 7 years that Montana passed away. Seven is a really long time y’all. But I think he would be happy to see how I’ve grown as a woman since then. And so to honor him and the part that he played in that growth, I want to dedicate this throwback Thursday to the first man who told me that my smile made him smile.

Rest in peace babe.


In Honor of Montana: Giving Thanks

“It is good for me that I have been afflicted; that I might learn thy statutes.” ~ Psalm 119:71

It’s been five years. Five years since I met the man who would change my life and my perspective on so many things in less than a 2 month time period. And while it doesn’t seem that long ago, this past Saturday actually marked 5 years since he died – since he was killed, actually.

It’s kind of amazing how time works. There are days when it feels like I met him a million years ago. Like the girl who I was at that time wouldn’t even recognize me. Like it was another life being lived, and I only watched it on TV.  And then there are times when it seems like just yesterday that this cute, tall, dark chocolate drop of goodness slipped me his phone number in one of DC’s most popular eateries. He was so slick about it, in fact, that for a minute, I didn’t realize it had happened. It wasn’t until I walked out that I noticed the receipt that read “Simply beautiful. Call me.” It listed his number and name, and that was it.

I naturally thought this man was a smooth operator and was not to be trusted. Who could be that slick and not be a shyster, right? It should be noted that I met him at a time when I was beyond jaded about the men in my life. I didn’t trust anyone, and without realizing it, I’d created this slightly dark and twisty outlook. I didn’t want people to hug me. I didn’t like cuddling. And most importantly, I didn’t believe anything any man said to me. Anything.

And yet, over the course of 2 months, this man knocked 90% of those walls down. I don’t know how he did it. One day I was doubting that he even actually knew who I was, (When I was finally convinced to call him, I argued him down that he probably gave that message to several women and didn’t actually know who was calling him. I shut up when he described my entire outfit and gave a very accurate description of me, down to the freckles on my face and the nail polish I had on.) and the next thing I knew we were texting each other silly high school ish like, ‘just thinking about you boo,’ and ‘I heard this song today that reminded me about you.’

Somehow, this man had taken me (dragging and screaming, mind you) to the point where I was not only ok with seeing him everyday, I wanted to. To where I was growing comfortable with having honest and vulnerable conversations with him. And then, of course, out of nowhere, it was all gone.

Read more here.

Throwback Thursday — “Celebrity” Shoe Spotlight: Olivia Pope

25 09 2014

On this Thursday, I have to share with you guys one of my favorite posts from the recent past — the shoe spotlight of Olivia Pope. Especially because ABC’s Scandal has its fall premiere tonight!! Check out the post, and get ready for the opener. I can’t wait to see what kind of foolery happens.




Olivia Pope, while not a real person, is a woman after my own shoe-heart, because she loooves a good sassy pump! Not to mention, she’s had her fair share of shoe moments already in the brief history of the show, like when she wore heels to the woods and the President had to switch her shoes to boots, or when she spent quite some time choosing between two pairs of heels for her date with Jake before finally deciding to cancel at the last minute. And who can forget her running/strutting away from the President in her stilettos only for him to grab her arm, pull her into a closet, and well — we know what happened then. Now, if you haven’t had a chance to watch Scandal (shame on you!), something you must at least know is that the woman is just as known for her fashion as she is for her scandalous decisions and the way she “handles” top notch crisis situations.

And since the heavily anticipated season premiere of Scandal debuts tomorrow, I figured this was as good a time as any to spotlight some of my favorite shoes the leading lady has worn on the show, as well as some moments when Kerry Washington has shown her own pump acumen. Come take a journey down memory lane with me, and then let’s get ready to see what shoes she comes blasting out with tomorrow. I don’t know about you, but I can’t wait!

View the slideshow of photos here.

And then make sure to come back after the show is over, so we can dish about some of the shoes worn.

Throwback Thursday — In My Dreams

31 07 2014

On this Thursday, I’m hitting you guys with an oldie but goodie! It’s a post I wrote several months ago, but it’s pretty near and dear to my heart and kind of reminds me of the days I used to write poetry when I was younger (it’s not a poem, but it’s closer to that than a regular blog post).

Hope you enjoy (and enjoy the rest of your week/weekend.) I’ll be continuing to traipse around Washington, DC with my sister and our oldest niece for the next few days — so basically the exact opposite of relaxing, but so much fun!

Without further ado — here you go!


In My Dreams

In my dreams, we are happy.

We are both filled with hope and expectations, enjoying just the mere presence of each other’s company.

Just us.


And him.

We are laughing heartily, because that’s what we do when around each other. But we are not laughing out of obligation. Our sounds come roaring out of us like water from Great Falls — booming with power but unable to stop the flow.

Our hands are sometimes entwined, fingertips dancing along each other’s skin. Embracing the other without even having to envelope because the slightest touch is intimate.

We are close. But not invading either person’s space. Our limbs have no concept of needing room from the other. At times, we are simply quiet. Breathing the other’s air. His chest lifting when mine does. Our heart beats synched to a perfectly timed beat. At others, we are again boisterous, giggling from the inside jokes only we know.

At no point are we scared.

Instead, we are comfortable. Comfortable in our skins. Peaceful in our happiness. Sure. Sure of the purpose we hold in the other’s life. Certain that God put us together for a reason. Maybe even a lifetime.

This is what I see in my dreams.

I see his eyes staring into my soul. His nose breathing in my scent. His lips curling up into the slightest, contented smile. I see us throwing caution to the wind and trying out this thing neither of us knew we wanted. Any hesitations halted by the pure joy we experience when we are in each other’s arms.

What I don’t see is a utopia. This is not a fantasy. It’s a real, living, breathing choice we’ve made to trust and honor and be open. My dream is not about frolicking in the meadows or traipsing across the country. It’s about two people who realized, somewhere along the way, despite what hardships are sure to come just living life, they are happier when life includes the two of them. I am happier when my life includes him.

We are free in this dream. Free to laugh, love, and be in the moment.

We are simply… us.

Just me.

And him.

Blazing our paths through this crazy world and grateful to have the other along for the ride.