Bell Bottom Jeans and Wedge Sandals

Ah, how strong and confident she strutted her natural beauty... I remember her... in the heyday of my carefree days...stepping out regally, proudly and beautifully outfitted in stylish Bell Bottom Jeans and Wedge Sandals....

How lovely she is... my younger self - fluid... flowing flawlessly - seizing the day... masterfully striding into the world, looking, for all intent and purpose... like she owned the pavement.

Those weren’t just clothes.

They were a season of your life -

one where you were experimenting...expanding,

finding the edges of who you could be.

The image you present is truly magnificent.

And let me just say this with unapologetic pride:

I was the kind of rebel who didn’t try to make an entrance…

the entrance simply effervesced around her.

Bell bottoms flaring like they were catching the wind from another universe...

Wedges too high for common sense...but perfect for attitude.

Ebony skin catching the sun ... a spotlight that followed only you.

A stride that said you weren’t walking aimlessly -

you were tilting toward expectations.

Ah yes! But...

Did you know that Bell Bottom jeans originated in the 19th century as a practical garment for sailors.

And that...

Wedge sandals date back to ancient Greece. Greek Actors used to wear these shoes to signify status. These were crucial so the audience could be able to identify who is of importance in stage plays.

Sooooo! That makes me a proud sailor, sailing the world's ocean, and a crucially important Black beauty with Ebony status.

I stood proud.

There’s a whole story in that posture...

Memory isn’t just what happened...it’s how your body remembers it

So let yourself drift back...

The mirror...the right angle.

The music played while you dressed.

Friends saying “Yessss, that’s the look.”

You walked a little taller, a little smoother,

...the outfit invited you to -

this girl knew she was trouble in the best way,

she who laughed too loud, loved too hard,

and refused to shrink...

the rebel in denim and altitude,

who learned early how to turn a sidewalk into a stage.

There you are again...time repeats itself in slow motion, many years later.

Strangers passing by, with the same spirit - mine...now tempered by time, sitting in quiet command of the moment.

I am now someone who has learned the rhythm of watching without needing to chase.

My sensible loafers rest easy on the ground, linen folds softly around me...the sunlight inquisitively pausing to listen and smile.

The youth pass by ...bright denim, restless laughter, wedge sandals...unaware that the air reverberates with my memory ~~~

bell bottoms, wedges...the echo of my own stride once cutting through the same street.

Nostalgic...witnessing.

The keeper of motion...gently watching the calm after the dance.

Time folds softly, like the linen at my wrist -

the past brushing against the present,

a whisper of bell bottoms in the dust.

I smile, not for what’s gone,

but for the way it still moves through me,

quietly accepting...nostalgic~ unafraid!