There are three letters to describe me today -- H.O.T. I'm talking all caps. (For those of you who really know me, I'm sure you're refreshing your browsers right now because you've never heard me talk about myself like this. I assure you, it's real, so you can put the mouse down now.) There were many signs.
1. I felt great.
2. My dress is also HOT and therefore, how could I not be in it.
3. My stilettos are beautifully amazing, and once again therefore how could I not be in them.
4. The young men stopped having conversation when I walked by and fell into an awed silence.
5. Women would not allow me to speak to their husbands without hurrying over.
A girl that I know in the ward said in a disdainful manner, "Tiffany, you always look so amazing. I could never look like you with my life and responsibilities."
Seriously? Did you just insult me by saying I'm not responsible because I look great? Really? Or that because you have 2 kids, you can't dress amazing? I HAVE THREE KIDS LADY!!! I juggle babies on my hips in my Suzi Chin dresses, wipe spit up from my winter white pants because I refuse to not wear what I want because I have kids. If they're going to learn from me, they get to learn who I am. And unless I am working in the garden or doing some sort of sporting activity (heaven forbid), I dress. For Myself. I don't need anyone to dress for, although appreciation of the effort is always in fashion and yes sometimes I wish I had that person to appreciate me, but I'll take the cat calls from the occasional construction worker. I don't need a partner to appreciate it to want to feel great about myself. I just feel great about myself. I haven't ever felt this happy with myself -- the past two months have probably been the best of my life. I know what I want, and I want it. I deserve it.
I look great because I want to look great, and I'm not apologizing for it again. E.V.E.R.
So today, I had FABULOUS hair, GOOD makeup, SWEET-ASS shoes, GREAT legs, a WONDERFULLY fitting dress, and a GORGEOUS smile. All in all, I looked H.O.T.