My mom told me a story recently about myself when I was a little kid. For a while, I was really into figure skating. I took lessons during the week, and each year I participated in an annual recital.
Apparently at some point, I started refusing to wear pretty figure skating dresses like my peers. I told my mom I would only wear pants, because I “hated dresses!!!!” And I wanted, “to be like Sporty Spice!!!!” (She’s still the coolest Spice Girl, if you ask me).
So that year, I wore an all-black outfit to my skating recital, despite my mother’s pleas. I actually still remember it– flare pants and a leotard top, which I accessorized with a silver sequin choker. Every other little girl had on a beautiful embellished dress. I stood out like a sore thumb.
According to my mother’s recounting of the events, the next year everything changed. Nearly all of the girls showed up to the annual recital in pants–just like me! My mom was proud of my independence and tomboy spirit. And had I been self-aware enough at age ten to realize it, I would have been too. (At this point, she also should have realized that she would have a highly stubborn and highly specific little fashionista on her hands).
Clearly, the allure of the tomboy is something I’ve been familiar with for quite some time. To me, there’s nothing cooler or sexier than a woman who can rock a boyish look, dressed up or dressed down. I may have grown out of my “spandex flares/ sequin choker phase”, and into more no-fuss basics, but the spirit stands the test of time.