“my mother told me to be a lady. and for her, that meant be your own person, be independent.” // r.b. ginsburg

when you have a daughter, or at least, when i had my daughter, a bona fide deluge of worries, thoughts, meanderings and questions about what it means/meant to be a girl, a woman – to be feminine, and ultimately feminist made my head spin.

trust that i’m not about to get all third-waveish on you, it’s neither my forté nor my want – but this being born female thing and what it ultimately means becomes infinitely more complex when a little girl is looking, and watching, (forever watching!) you for the answers.

especially when you don’t have them. nope, not a one.

i’m making it all up as we go.

the reasons i wear make-up, why i wear my hair the way i do, why i have those parts and papa has those – and for that matter, why do i sometimes use my maiden name, and why does my passport have my married name? why do i wear black, and other mums wear floral? why does my bum look this way, and that mum’s looks that way? why can that friend can wear nail polish, but she can’t? why do those boys have earrings, and can girls wear their hair short?

there are loads of whys, and i’m trying to answer them with something a bit more thoughtful than a rather nothing ‘because…’. and then it got in my head to look at overtly girly frocks and that’s how i got here…






➝ source : christopher kane silk shirt dress via browns

➝ source : floral jersey dress via erdem

➝ source : full print text dress via peter pilotto

➝ source : zimmerman batik suspended bell dress via bona drag


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