I participate in Lauren Messiah’s online style group, and she encourages you to pick a two-word description of your personal style. Mine is “Lady Adventurer”. Those words are meant to evoke Lady Jane Greystoke. Luxurious practicality.

I’ve been dressing in a sensible, pretty clothes for a long time. I generally tool around in ankle length skirts in some washable fabric, a solid belt, and a practical top. That base style type one might call “grounded femininity”. It’s a very comfortable way for a mother to dress. I’ve hiked and gardened and clambered around on jetties and done all manner of things, all in skirts. (I wear shorts/pants to the gym or when I’m getting truly embroiled in heavy labor).

I get comments on my clothes. They call me brave for dressing the way I do. Taken at face value, it’s an odd thing to say. I wasn’t aware that long skirts and bright colors were particularly dangerous. … Well, that’s the thought that crosses my mind, anyway. Brave is not the adjective I’d choose. Sensible and perhaps a wee bit eccentric? Much closer to the truth.

I decided this year that it was time to really lean into my style type. SLAM – the fear hit my sternum, and I got what they’d been saying all this time. “Lady Adventurer” isn’t just sensible and pretty – no. She’s feminine without the slightest apology. To be woman, to embrace that, is to embrace a bit of chaos. It is to embrace Beauty. To choose to lean into all of what you are is to leave behind those things that you are not, the things behind which you were hiding.

Public femininity is not something our 21st century is built to accommodate. For some reason, instead of feminism embracing lady adventurers and other womanly women, feminism embraced androgyny. (Whyyyy must “the best feminist” look most like a man? Riddle me that). Femininity became equated to weakness, fragility, uselessness – and it was sidelined. One does not wear long skirts to work in professional settings, and color is suspect. It’s a cultural thing, not a practical one -typing on a keyboard is equally easy in a satin blouse or cotton button-down.

Not to mention that I’m Generation X. Our generation values toughness, independence, grit and determination. Luxury? That means having a nice car, right? Not a cashmere sweater… we’re not really supposed to *enjoy* wearing pretty things, are we? Nah. You have to be practical. Only a flibbertigibbet – empty headed and shallow – really cares about what goes on her back, right? Or the whole experience is for people Not of Our Social Class – only a few can afford to care.

But I do care. And I’m not a flibbertigibbet. I’m intelligent and hardworking and practical and strong. And I love a delicate blouse, lace trim, and good tailoring. Adventurer is a less scary word than Lady, oddly enough. Because being a lady – dressing like a lady – somehow makes you vulnerable to the judgement of others. I can love interesting lines (Vivienne Westwood, anyone?) and vivid color schemes and be much “safer” than I can by simply saying that I love perfume and silk.

Lady Adventurer – I never expected it to require any courage to activate. Brave. It sounds ridiculous. “You’re so brave to dress like that”. “I wish I could wear [the long skirt]”. But perhaps it does take bravery to show the truth of who you really are. I really am a lady, and you really cannot keep me in the drawing room.

What truths about yourself are you trying to hide?