The Armor We Choose

Sometimes, it’s not about how the dress looks—yeah, the lace is pretty, the satin is crazy soft. But every night there’s this private little ritual in front of my mirror, where I get to ask: who am I, tonight?

I slide my hand along the fabric and it’s like putting on armor—sometimes for the world, sometimes just for myself. Not to hide but to feel protected, empowered, maybe just seen in a way I choose. The way a single dress drapes or catches the light isn’t just about style. It’s about deciding how much of myself I’m ready to show, and how much I need to keep tucked away for me.

When I reach for the strap—thinking, do I want to step out as this version, or do I want to shed it and step into someone a little softer or a little bolder? Each layer is a choice, each angle in my reflection another story. When I finally let the dress fall away, it’s not just fabric hitting the floor—it’s me, picking my next chapter.

So, what skin are you choosing to wear tonight?