Behind the Column: Why Getting Dressed Still Matters

When I wrote my recent column for Southern Mn Scene, I wasn’t trying to talk about fashion. I was trying to talk about feeling. About the quiet, familiar ache so many women have been carrying since the world shifted: we haven’t quite felt like ourselves.

The full column lives here if you’d like to read it:
We Didn’t Just Stop Dressing Up — We Stopped Showing Up for Ourselves

But today, I want to go deeper into the heart of it — because this conversation is bigger than clothing.
It’s about choosing to show up for life again.

Why Getting Dressed Is Emotional, Not Superficial

Every morning, my closet gives me choices — not just of clothing, but of emotion.

When I’m feeling low, my instinct is to reach for something stretchy and soft. It feels safe. But I’ve learned that staying wrapped in “cozy” when my heart feels heavy keeps me stuck there longer than I want to be.

So I started reaching for my “stage-ready” outfit on the days I felt defeated. Something polished, something with structure, something that reminded me:
I am still in charge of my story.

And it worked.

When I dress like the version of myself I want to feel, I become more like her.
I stand taller. I think clearer. My day becomes more productive and far less emotional.

It’s not pretending.
It’s permission — to step forward before the feelings catch up.

How One Small Change Can Start the Momentum

Sometimes confidence grows like stacking blocks — one intentional choice at a time.

If I need energy, I wear bright colors.
If I’m feeling anxious, I choose monochromatic calm.
If I need comfort, I reach for a scarf, a belt, or a charm — a little spark that reminds me I still care about beauty even on hard days.

That tiny shift in effort changes my rhythm.
It’s like striking a match: one spark that brings light back into the day.

We often wait for joy before we make the effort.
But the truth is: it’s the effort that brings the joy back.

Why This Holiday Season Is Our Time to Reconnect

I’ll admit it — I had slipped into that hopeless feeling, too.
The world changed, and I convinced myself things would never feel the same.

But somewhere along the way, I changed my words.

Instead of
“Things will never be the same,”
I now say,
“Things can be better — because we’re different now.”

We’ve learned what truly matters.
We understand how fragile connection is — and how beautiful it feels to have it again.

This season isn’t about going back.
It’s about rewriting what comes next — for ourselves, our families, and our community.

Doing the Things Again — and Dressing for Them

There is a special kind of joy that comes from saying yes to life again.

Go to the tree lighting, even if it’s cold.
Bundle up. Feel the spark of your community waking up for the season.

Volunteer to deliver meals or help with a local event.
It’s not just service — it’s belonging.

Join the choir or sing carols with neighbors.
Let your voice blend with others and remember what connection sounds like.

Take a slow walk downtown.
Shop local. Greet people.
Feel the rhythm of small-town life, where every hello warms the air.

And as you walk, look for gifts the old way — the way we used to.

We used to get excited about searching for the perfect gift — not the most expensive one, and not the cheapest online deal.
But the one that carried a shared belief, a private joke, or a memory only the two of you understood.

You held it.
You felt its texture.
You pictured their smile.

It wasn’t about finding a bargain.
It was about finding a feeling.

Online shopping delivers packages.
It doesn’t deliver connection.
It can’t recreate that spark you feel when you pick up something and know instantly, “This is so them.”

So this year, dress up for the experience.
Dress for the tree lighting, for the choir rehearsal, for the walk downtown.
Dress for the moment, the memory, the meaning.

Because when you show up — truly show up — you don’t just buy gifts.
You create stories.

And stories last far longer than anything wrapped in a box.

Show Up for You

In the end, this isn’t about being dressed up.
It’s about being dressed for.

For your day.
For your community.
For your reflection.
For your life.

We didn’t just stop dressing up.
We stopped showing up for ourselves.

But you can start again — with one red shoe, one crisp blouse, one scarf, one spark.

This season, may you rediscover the beauty of showing up — for others, and for you.