Letting my Gart(er) Down

 

(Sara Sampaio for Victoria’s Secret)

I suppose ‘becoming a woman’ can be patented subjectively. Getting your period, losing your virginity, going out on your first date without curfew, establishing a career, summiting your first fourteener. Putting on your big girl pants is dependent the material you prefer to wear and where you’re headed.

‘Are you there god? It’s me Sierra.’ moment occurred when I clipped in my first thigh high. Just like most things, putting on a garter appears much more glamorous in the movies. There is a lot of adjusting and re-clipping that occurs. I twisted and turned my body in ways that not even a yoga instructor could choreograph. By the time everything was situated, I had sweated out the curls in my hair.

With no anti-frizz serum in sight I stood up feeling slightly defeated but excited. I put my stilettos (for full effect) and walked over to the floor length mirror.

It was in that moment where I realized the little girl had been shed and the woman had been adjusted and re-clipped in. Whether it was the way that the belt pulled in my waist or the way the straps met the opaque thigh highs, lengthening my legs. I fell in love with myself.

I could sit here and put on an ultra-feminist front and tell you that I wasn’t putting on this lingerie for a man, but then I would be lying. I’m not good at that. I was indeed putting it on for a man. A man who I cared about very much.  Because personally, that’s half the fun. And the other part of this empowering experience. Sleeping with someone is one thing, but spending money on something that the media solely displays on photoshopped models and wearing that for someone is another. It’s another step of venerability. I’m not saying that every time a woman puts on lingerie there is a novella in her head covering every ‘why or why not?’ she should wear a piece. Because quite frankly I know women who wear corsets, thigh-highs, and garter belts under their three piece suits to work on a weekly basis.

I’m talking situational. When a woman wears something for her partner, man or woman. It helps make a passionate moment become engraved. Every time she looks at that piece, she’ll associate it with that specific moment. A tangible piece of nostalgia.

That’s why lingerie matters, to me.

-Sierra aka Tiny-T