Overcoming Judgement | Confidence | Style
We pulled up to the church after what felt like the longest drive. Emotions of attending a funeral aside; I was feeling pretty good. My beautiful Aunt had recently passed and all the family were coming out of the woodworks to say their goodbyes, as well as the entire Kempsey Fire Brigade; since she was a volunteer fire fighter.
I had spent the whole morning planning my outfit- black everything of course.
It is a funeral, so it had to be modest and classy but still has to suit my personality. I wasn’t about to rock up seeing family I hadn’t seen in years, looking like I had no style. I teamed up a black pencil skirt with a long sleeve, black chiffon blouse and I really had to think about my shoes.. See, I am a bit of a shoe freak and I have hundreds of pairs of gorgeous high heels, and I’ve never been much of a flat shoe person.
I just love the elegance of a stiletto, they hold the ability to make you feel so powerful and the way they elongate the legs is an added bonus to my short stature as well.
My mother always used to say; ‘This girl was born with heels on.’
The way I used to clip-clop around the house with the little plastic Cinderella shoes, day in and day out until they broke and I would beg for new ones!
I even remember growing up and visiting my Nanna on weekends where I would raid her shoe cupboard. I think I got my love of shoes from her! She had all sorts of wonderful and exciting shoes for me to model up and down the hallways in. I specifically remember a silver pair of wedges that she had clearly gotten for the Millenium since the wedge was a cut-out of the number 2000.
I had carefully considered my options that morning and had chosen a classic black heel with a strap around the ankle and open toes- not a peep toe, more like sandals, not too high in comparison to my other heels, and comfortable enough to walk around all day in, I decided this to be the perfect pair for my outfit.
As I hop out of the car; I notice my second cousins across the parking lot. Two fully grown men, one with a family of his own- but these two were the ones you go to for information.. The troublesome, gossip type. They always seem to have the down- low information on everyone and everything.I lean into D for a friendly warm embrace and he giggle-whispers into my ear;
“My dad saw you from the car and said; oh god LOOK at the stripper shoes!”
He’s laughing because it’s such a typical judgemental thing for his dad to say, and he thinks it’s hilarious but I’m shocked!
How are these stripper shoes?
I really put a lot of effort into my outfit and that’s the first thing anyone says about me!
Mortified.
Mind you we’re at a church and D is covered head to toe in tattoos- you’d think he would be the topic of conversation if anything, or that his dad would keep his comments to himself.
I decide to take the offence in my stride and strut my slutty stripper self into the church with my head held high because you know what? You can’t please everyone! And it’s not my job to please everyone. I am here to mourn the loss of my Aunt, who wouldn’t give two shits about what shoes I wore.
Despite my effort to dress for the occasion, it still wasn’t good enough for everyone, and it never will be. You can be the best of the best and there will always be someone who doesn’t like what you’re doing, so I guess the lesson here is; be who you want to be and forget the rest.
Don’t worry what people might think- that’s none of your business.
Enjoy the things that make you happy and wear the clothes that you like.
Since I am such a fan of shoes, I’m going to take it as a compliment that a grown man immediately noticed my footwear from across the carpark. Perhaps next time I’ll wear the bright pink stripper boots with glitter and diamonds on them so they will really have something to talk about!
Just kidding.
Signing off,
Love Trina x
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