Making an Entrance

A white crinoline at Goodwill hangs lonesome in my closet, its satin and mesh cascading down from the hanger to puddle on the carpet. It's lonely because although I am a collector of extremely long dresses and maxi skirts, there is still nothing in my closet that requires the assistance of a crinoline.

Yet.

Several years ago at a writer's conference, I admired an editor's bustled overskirt. Her colorful and ploofy affair was like nothing I'd seen before. She graciously shared the name of the maker and I have been obsessed ever since with Sofistafunk's voluptuous, voluminous, gigantic skirts. (Bonus, it's a Black-owned small business!) I fell in love with an iridescent, coquelicot-hued number, but I wondered if I'd ever really wear it to the grocery store or to coffee with friends. And a skirt like that doesn't deserve to sit unworn in a closet. After all, I am not the sort of person who has formals to attend every weekend. Although in college I wore ballgowns frequently at my soprano recitals, I no longer sing; the only creatures who hear me sing these days are my chickens and children! I wouldn't categorize myself as a innovative fashionista, although once, I put on a ballgown to take editorial-style pictures with my hens! Posing for a picture is one thing. Choosing pears and potatoes in the produce aisle is another. I get nervous about standing out too much in public.

Or I did. Mask wearing has made me bolder. (Or maybe that's a side benefit of getting older?) In any case, the last time I was window shopping on my favorite site, I noticed something. Most of the models don't look like they're getting ready to go to prom. They're wearing ball skirts styled with chambray button downs, tank tops and fun necklaces, t-shirts. Each of them looks comfortable. Elegant. Confident. The kind of woman I aspire to be.

I haven't bought my maxi skirt just yet, although I did attend my son's elementary schools gardening day wearing a long linen number that looked like I'd took it straight off of a Little House on the Prairie costume rack. I thought I'd get a lot of funny looks, but it was cool and comfortable. When I bent down to pull weeds or plant seeds, I discovered a surprising benefit of long skirts: they only show off what you intend to be seen. No embarrassing gapping!

The full skirt is somewhat impractical I realize. In a crinoline or a hoop skirt, driving is bound to be more difficult. Such an outfit won't show off the legs you've worked so hard on while cycling or running or doing a year's worth of squats. But...

There's an elegance and mystery to the way fabric swishes around ankles. In a long skirt, you never have to worry about sunblock or shaving your legs (if that's a thing you do). Putting on a long skirt instantly says "I'm here to make an entrance." After a year of sitting at home, watching friends on tiny screens, and living in sweatpants, I think I'm ready to do just that. Who wants to join me?