The Power of the Dress

It’s a beautiful day outside; the crisp morning air nips at my nose and cheeks, the sunshine beats down on my upturned face, and the stillness of the morning accompanies me on my way to class. The day could not get any better; I had a three day weekend coming up, my mid-semester presentation would be through within the hour, and I was wearing my new lucky dress.

This dress oozed perfection; it fit me perfectly, it was a flattering black and white, and it hit me at just the right length, which is an accomplishment in and of itself considering I am 5’2” and rarely find my perfect match when it comes to clothes. Ah, my lucky dress. A dress I only pull out on important occasions. Occasions such as internships, first dates, and in today’s case, mid-semester presentations. I knew nothing could go wrong, and I was right.

The day began with my presentation. I had been working on a public relations campaign for a local nonprofit called Talita Koum Institute. My team spent the first half of the semester analyzing the organization and creating materials to help them reach their goals. We presented to their communications specialist and their class. Everyone loved it. Point No. 1 for my lucky dress.

Class got out early, point No. 2, so I went home and ran a few errands. I was able to turn in a thank you note to my scholarship donors, eat lunch and still have time to watch a little E! with my roommate.

Next up, Creative Writing, one of my favorite classes. I had a new story to turn in, and I was not about to be late. So, I walked to class early, printed off my paper, and waited patiently for my professor to arrive. My professor comes in and talks about our stories. Then, he goes through our previous work and reads excerpts of them out loud; mine he loved, as did everyone else. I got “check plus” which basically is equivalent to an A+++++++ (at least in my head). I left class with my head in the sky. I was elated, I was confident, and I had my lucky dress to thank for all of it. Point No. 3 for the dress.

As the day continued on, I went to my interview with Baylor’s soccer team. I am writing about a player for I interviewed her, a coach, and two of her teammates. Everything went great, I felt great, and I knew I had an awesome story in my hands, point No. 4.

Once home, I convinced my roommate to go with me to order from my favorite restaurant, point No. 5. I was able to end my day watching Scandal, eating my favorite salad (don’t judge me their salad dressing is probably the best thing I have ever tasted), and enjoying my night off from homework.

I attribute this to my lucky dress, my favorite dress, my saving grace dress. However, as I was going to bed I began to think, “What makes this dress so special?” Was it the color? No, it is black and white, basic to the core. Was it the design? Probably not, I mean it was cute but it’s not like it is designer. I couldn’t figure it out. I mean, for the life of me I sat there and thought, “I just feel good when I am in it.”

And then it hit me; I feel good when I am in it.

This dress makes me confident, a trait I struggle with most.

How sad is that? I can’t deem my day “good” unless I am wearing a dress that I feel makes me look good. I then began to go through my day again. It really wasn’t all that perfect. I mean yes, my presentation ran smoothly, but I did stumble over my words some. Yes, I went home for a bit, but I forgot a bio for my thank you letter. Yes, my professor loved my story, but the one I just turned in was not quality work. Yes, my interview went well, but on first take the coach thought I was interviewing him about a different player. And yes, I did get my favorite dinner, but I convince my roommate to do that on a weekly basis.

So why was I happy all day? Oh right, I was actually confident for once. Normally I go through my day worried. I am worried about what people think of my writing, I am worried about what people will think of my presentation, and I am worried about if I will have a job come January (which, by the way, I am graduating in December and still looking so if you know anyone hiring please email me). Basically, I worry… about everything…

Yet, today I didn’t worry, all because of a dress. How sad is that? Why should what I wear dictate my confidence level? How come a dress has that power over me? Who in their right mind would ever trust their fate to a dress?

Unfortunately, people do this every single day. It’s a characteristic of the society we live in. Everyone has lucky socks, a lucky pair of jeans, a lucky song, or a lucky necklace. When we wear them we feel confident, we feel secure, and we finally feel faith in ourselves.

What. A. Bunch. Of. Crap.

I want to go through every day as if I were wearing my lucky dress. I want to ooze confidence, walk into presentations knowing I am going to dominate, and beam when I turn in a kick-ass writing assignment. I want to reach my goals, dominate my fears, and achieve my dream job in New York City (which, really, please hire me). I want to run fast and not look back.

When I do these things, because I know I will, it will not be because of a lucky dress. No, it will be because I achieved them. I made them happen. God placed in me the desire and capabilities to do whatever I set my mind to do, and guess what, I did it.

How foolish are we to place our future in an inanimate object? How foolish am I to only feel confident when I am wearing a cute dress? Clothing is important, and it is great when I look my best, but that cannot happen every day. However, every day I can choose to be confident. I can choose to know I will succeed. Most importantly, I can choose to not let anything stand in my way.


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