Remember my "Just to Make Them Happy" post? Well, my Great Dress Experiment of November 2007 has been a rousing success.
Didn't wear a pair of pants all month and never went anywhere without perfume. I'm going to stick with it. Though, still 3/4 of the time my hair was in a messy bun and I had cute flat shoes and no makeup on...give me a break, gotta ease into this "lady" thing slowly...don't want my system to go into shock. Frankly, it already feels like a cellular shift.
The results were shocking.
Though I've been called "cute" all my life, "gorgeous" was reserved for the formal wear nights or shoot days with professional makeup and hair.
I've never been a "beautiful" woman. And I say that with authority because rarely had I been called that. I think the best it got was when Moriarty at Aint it Cool.com called me "Spectacularly Cute". That was the highlight of my physical compliments (I'm ignoring references to body parts themselves, clearly, because overhearing "Yowza look at that ass" isn't something that makes my chest warm with pleasure).
But all that changed in November, the month of dresses. I was referred to as beautiful, often by total strangers, an average of five times a week.
Come on. That's shocking.
Even more shocking? The preferential treatment I received. Men stumbling to open doors for me. Excusing themselves when they bumped into me. Double-taking in a non-salacious way. Unsolicited offers of help. A higher caliber of men asking me out. Salesladies giving me things for free. Strangers smiling at me and catching my eye even more than normal. Shocking. Absolutely shocking.
I can't believe I could have this positive of an effect on the world around me just by throwing on a silly dress. I mean, it's technically easier to wear than jeans, there's less to wash, and there's no bothersome thinking about matching. It's the simplest thing in the world, and it's so much more beautiful and chic.
So there you have it. A butterfly flaps its wings and causes a tsunami.
Oh, and I've become obsessed with perfume. Julie, the lovely Nordstrom specialist, sent me a two-page handwritten note at home because she said she's never had so much fun with a client, never had someone ask to be taught to be a connoisseur, and that she'd NEVER had someone walk into the LA store and say "I don't need what's popular, I need what's beautiful."
No more worrying about materialism or narcissism. I don't have to prove I'm a good woman by ignoring my outsides and hoping people will see my hard-earned, glowy soul. Eff that. I'm going to pamper myself and be a queen full time.
Can't wait to see what happens when I master heels, makeup and hair every day. I might just stumble on George Clooney. I'll keep you posted.