Stepped out with family in this unexpectedly comfy ballerina inspired attire.
It is not common knowledge that I did ballet when I was a little girl and even had dance recitals at the CCP (imagine that). Only a few people know this because (1.) I can be a very uncoordinated klutz and (2.) the handful who have seen me dance also saw my eventual failure at the endeavour (there were failed attempts at parties and even that one time I tried jazz dancing that left me even more hopeless about my skills & fatter from all the after-class McDo trips we made). I'd like to believe that at a very young age, my dancing skills have peaked and ended at about the time I got that first(?) level ballet accreditation. These days, the unusually awkward movements I make when I attempt to dance are offset by laughter and my strong tendencies towards indifference to what other people think of me (kapal muks).
Gone are the days of tutu's and leotards (and having to pee butt naked because of how these things are worn) but on some days like today, I remember the plié's, and the hand & foot positions, and the skipping, and how my ballet skirt would feel as I twirled around the wooden dance floor.
Today's attire reminded me of all of that-- the soft stretchable fabric that moved with you and the flowy skirt that fluttered in the air for every movement, slight as they may be.
Feels nice to recount little memories like these.
Australian flats; Old bazaar top & skirt; Roxy bag & watch
Photos by Jun & Camille Rodriguez.
Another takeaway from this outfit: the realization that I should get myself more stretchy clothes.