#dresses
Over the holidays, I was watching Lisa’s sister little Leeza, she’s 14.
She has a rebellious fashion sense and a joyful innocence.
She’s still fearless too, and on-God, I hope she never loses that.
Too soon though—the disco’s coming to town—the world’s coming for her. It’s the same for all of us, I suppose, but in Lisa and my cases, covid shut it all down.
It’s a rite of passage—the shoes, the bodycon dresses and the makeup. Those carry negative connotations, I get it, but there’s an excitement too, about finally getting to dress like an adult—a woman—in one of those bodycon, cut-out dresses.
I know the pressures on women and their bodies, but at her age, it's not all stress, cattiness and comparisons—it’s just innocent teen fun. She and her posse can take hours just dressing and doing their make-up—together. It’s probably the best part of their night.
Leeza’s dad (Michael) saw the little group of teens, all dolled-up and launched, like a SpaceX Starship. Pacing the living room, he quietly opined to Karen (her mom), “I don’t want her going out dressed like that.”
Karen was right there with him to cool things down, “No, *** at her age, it’s about self-expression, learning and girl bonding—these connections are really important in the girl-world.”
I’m not worried about Leeza’s physical safety. These girls are watched over and gently curated. Their every movement is orchestrated and security escorted—hell, Hamas couldn’t get to them—much less some gropey boy.
There’s just this new awareness these days of how unhappy some people are—and a lot of them are teen girls. I wouldn’t want to see Leeza mired in the sad, brain-draining social media pressure and self-esteem traps.
Teenhood is scary—I was feelin’ positively parental.
Then I looked at Lisa, and I was reminded that they’ve done all this before, and she has a big-sister, role-model too.
.
.
Songs for this:
Good Time Girl (feat. Charlie Barker) by Sofi Tukker
Dance To This (feat. Ariana Grande) by Troye Sivan
Jan 23, 2025
Jan 23, 2025 at 11:12 AM UTC
I spoke to you last Friday,
Lights dim and skirts brushing the floor.
You were wearing folds of blue,
Clad in pleats and flowers.
We talked about nothing of importance,
Pockets and converse and models.
I kept waiting for that recognition,
The twinge in my chest I always feel.
I didn't feel it.
I looked at your face, heard your voice,
Eyes shadowed with sparkle.
I didn't miss you.
I remember our late-night chats,
Endless conversations just like this one.
I couldn't see that girl in you.
I wonder, I can't help it,
If you felt that way as well?
One thought stuck in my mind,
A question you will never hear;
When you were choosing your dress,
In a colour I always loved on you,
The shade of blue I say you've always shone in.
Did I ever cross your mind?
Did you think of me?
Did you remember my praises fondly,
Remember the colour I loved you to wear?
I kept thinking of that dress after that,
Of our first conversation since you left.
I miss that girl.
But I don't miss you.
I think I could be friends with you,
The girl in the light blue dress.
The girl I used to know.
Dec 13, 2024
Dec 13, 2024 at 2:03 PM UTC
Bright colors dance
Pattern of stripes
Swish and flick
Turning about now
When you turn
In motion flowing
Fabric so light
It could fly
Feb 26, 2020
Feb 26, 2020 at 7:36 PM UTC
Just a color
But,
Is it really?
In preschool it was fine
I liked what I liked
No one cared
In elementary school
It became
Girly
Yet, ironically
This made most of the girls
Like me
Tomboys
Stay away from it
And instead,
It became cool for a guy
To like it
In highschool
Girls don’t care
Guys don’t care
People like what they want
But,
Is that really how it is?
Somewhere, under the surface
Amongst sparkly pink nails
And dresses
Somehow,
It’s not a color anymore
...
But a symbol
Sep 19, 2018
Sep 19, 2018 at 7:32 PM UTC
Sonia watched her parents
drive off in the car.
They never waved,
nor did she,
just watched them go
out of sight
to some dinner dance
for Polish veterans.
An evening to herself.
Benny couldn't come:
he was going to an opera
in London with his mum.
She went to her parents' room,
opened drawers,
scanned through
the wardrobe.
She selected a few
of her mother's dresses
and laid them
on the bed.
She liked the red one
without sleeves.
She took off her jeans
and blouse and tried
on the red dress.
It seemed
to fit her well.
She hadn't seen
her mother wear it.
Her mother must
have been slimmer then.
It zipped up
at the back.
She zipped it up
and did a twirl.
It made her look
like some actress.
She smoothed it down
with her palms.
Put her hands
on her hips.
Wiggled her hips.
She wished Benny
was there.
An evening
without Him.
She took off
the red dress
and put it back
in the wardrobe
with other dresses.
Just as it was.
She closed the door.
She put on her jeans
and blouse
and went to her own room.
She imagined Benny
was there with her.
She undressed slowly,
pretending Benny
was removing
her jeans and blouse.
She lay on her bed
and hugged her pillow,
pretending it was him,
kissing him slow
and long.
But it wasn't the same,
something was wrong.
Jun 27, 2018
Jun 27, 2018 at 3:08 PM UTC
A cackle of hens
A parliament of baboons
They giggle and guffaw
Ladylike buffoons
The alcohol flows
The snow falls deep
The dads watch through squinted eye
The Bahamas vibe, new age sheep
They waltz to their yachts
New dresses flowing
Their saunter falters
Their confidence still growing
May 23, 2018
May 23, 2018 at 11:33 PM UTC
Growing up, I always saw myself as the princess that needed to be rescued by a handsome prince.
Waiting for the one to come in his shining silver armor and a sword that shines in the moonlight
while I wear the long flowing dresses and a crown, only sitting and waiting.
While waiting for him, he is out fighting and battling, living an adventure.
Now I sit here and realize:
I am the one who saved myself
I am not only wearing my crown, but also the silver armor and carrying my own sword.
I am the one waiting on myself to have my own adventures.
Not only am I my own princess, I am my own knight.
I am my own savior.
Mar 7, 2018
Mar 7, 2018 at 6:30 PM UTC
many things were beautiful.
beautiful, was the rain clouds.
the looming, navy puffs, that shadowed everything in sight.
beautiful, was a birthday dress, from your dad.
one complete with frills, and sequins, and vibrancy.
the love, the caresses, the joy behind it.
beautiful, was a peacock's feathers.
those, that they held in pride, flashing whenever they could.
beautiful, was the moment you described,
when the tension got too much to handle.
many things were beautiful.
but, i reckon that the most beautiful thing to be
seen, was your smile.
the fierce excitement, in your eyes, could
be more concise, than any dark blue floodgate for rain.
it could be prettier than a pink, fluffy dress, from your old man.
your smile, could be more enchanting, than the orange on a peacock.
it could be more emotional, than that one intense moment.
you see, many, many, many things could be described as beautiful.
but, your quirk of those pink, happiness-inclined lips, could change
the meaning of 'beauty', forever.
Oct 30, 2017
Oct 30, 2017 at 6:30 AM UTC
Oh, should I have a dress made of sunlight,
Embellished with dewdrops from heaven;
And a crown on my head full of stardust,
From stars that will dance on my head top.
The morning shall curtsy to me,
I, the maiden of light.
The sky will acknowledge my presence.
The earth will rejoice with the heavens.
Oh, should I have a dress made of sunlight
and the stars atop my head,
I could gnash my teeth at darkness,
and darkness will run and hide.
Mar 11, 2016
Mar 11, 2016 at 5:34 PM UTC
I'm thinking of how I return to the spot in the disco ball moonlight
and I'm catching my breath.
I always noticed people who are uptight
using humor as a mask.
This masquerade is filled with gowns of glitter
and tuxedos of black and white.
We dance, we chat, we drink our beloved manhattan and gin.
I'm more than excited to be at the masquerade,
Though I'm hit by past behavior of craziness and belting profanity.
I didn't mean it.
Just want everyone focused on my glitter so I now still wear a mask.
Can we still dance?
Can I have one more drink?
Can they learn to move forward?
Behavior is like a masquerade.
Dress to perfection, and don't drink too much or you'll end the night with humiliation and grief.
Play with your boa but don't chase if it doesn't catch his eye.
Don't lay a hand on her if she refuses a dance with you.
Be kind to the others at the ball.
Smile and whatever is hurting inside,
put a mask on it.
We don't need to ruin everyone's time at the wonderful masquerade.
Some may or may not
Forget.
Dec 11, 2015
Dec 11, 2015 at 9:57 PM UTC
i am the Ripped Wallpaper.
i am the Dusty Boxes in the attic.
i am the Toys thrown carelessly into the back of the closet.
I am Irrelevant.
i am the Holiday Decorations,
taken out only when needed.
i am the horribly Ugly Dress,
worn only when your mother makes you.
i am the Book that you Hate
but are forced to read for a grade.
i am only Relevant when you Choose.
but ripped wallpaper can be Fixed,
dust can be Swept Off
and toys can be Rediscovered.
Dec 9, 2015
Dec 9, 2015 at 1:25 PM UTC
When will I become a Disney Princess?
I've done everything, I've worn dresses
When will I get my happily ever after?
Or will it just end up with my laughter?
When will I get to swim the seas?
Like the prettiest Ariel you'll ever see
When will I lose my glass slipper
or will my dreams forever shatter?
When will I fall in love with a thief
Or is it just a mythical belief?
When will I kiss my frog prince
I've always wanted this since
When will I grow hair as long as a river that never ends
or will my prince and I just end up as friends?
When will I fall in love with a beast
or will it end up with me as the feast?
When will I get to ride a flying carpet
Huh, will I even get to see it?
When will I get to fall into a deep sleep?
When will the magic start to seep?
That was years ago, when I was still young
Now I'm not innocent, I've experienced everything
The smoke in the air has filled up my lungs
I am now matured and scared of something
I know that my heart will always be broken
Now I am scared, now I am shaken
Never will I be a princess
Even if I wore my dresses
Because being a princess is only in movies
It's a huge lie, a horrible story
I'll never get my happily ever after
And I'll end it with my broken laughter
Sep 11, 2015
Sep 11, 2015 at 9:07 AM UTC
A walk through the misty wood.
The trail latent with track of hooves,
which tell me the ways the forest moves,
into the endless green hood.
I would step to dance upon these tracks,
but the sound is what holds me back.
I shouldn't disturb the animals around,
or step on the forests leafy gown.
The powerful sounds of the forest,
not meant for a tape to be repeated
because the pure sound is sweet to my ear,
and to my heart, it will always be near.
May 17, 2015
May 17, 2015 at 9:00 PM UTC
home is where the heart is
and my heart lies in the mountains,
with nights of hot cocoa and campfires;
with the soaring trees, bad cameras.
and in the center of it all, laughter and midnight games.
the dresses, the stars, the countless walks. . .
my heart belongs to those in the beds next to mine,
and in the eyes of him. loud songs and braided hair make me smile.
and yes, my heart is with you.
Jul 12, 2014
Jul 12, 2014 at 7:58 PM UTC
Something about women
in red dresses...
A vibrance, a radiance
an essence of vitality
basking bright youth
beyond all age.
The lines rendered
whether curved or slender,
sleek and elegant,
one with the material
one with the color.
May 24, 2014
May 24, 2014 at 7:18 PM UTC
yellow primroses,
in your blonde hair,
the summer wind blowing
and messing it up.
you are dancing without
a care in the green meadow
that you adore
and the village where you
grew up.
floral wreaths on top
of your head,
the sun is beaming over you.
and like this,
with flowers in your hair,
flowers that almost
match your hair color,
and that sun dress that i adore,
you are still perfect,
and you'll always be.
Mar 30, 2014
Mar 30, 2014 at 11:26 AM UTC