Chin up, sisters.

“I would love to blow your brains out,” he said, so stern, so ice cold that… I shut up.

I imagined the content of my skull splashed on the wall and finally stopped shouting and screaming for what I wanted from a partner unimpressed like a rubber ball you try to hit a dent into. It was in the 80’s when I didn’t understand that you can’t yell for love. You can’t demand to be seen.

My life was a fight to understand and the path to knowing was plastered with challenges. Emotionally but never physically abused by a man I punished myself plenty for being a “wild woman”, a female who fought for her right to be her true self.

I saw the content of my bag on the ground three days ago when I stumbled and literally fell on my face, my chin to be exact. My laptop (lovingly called my brain) and phone were intact. My dog was fine too, looking at me astonished, What’ are you doing on the dirty asphalt of the parking lot?

A minute later I stared at my bloody chin in the mirror at home. It burnt and my knees started to hurt. I had punched myself in the chin. What the heck?

Falling on my knees hurt pretty bad, the scarped skin mostly hurt my vanity. It began swelling, adding blue and black tones; I look like the bearded lady…

By now I know that I get “messages” when I don’t listen. I had actually asked for nice notes this time, Universe!! But no, I got kicked... like I will be kicked out of my home of 20 years by a developer forcing me to make long overdue decisions.

As I’m all about transforming mess into might I pondered about the attributes of the chin; determination, perseverance and attitudes like "stick out that chin" or "chin up!"

“The chin can be seen to indicate many things such as resolve, sternness, obstinacy, character. Your ability to take the blows of life on the chin. Also willpower, stubbornness, bullishness, bravado, determination, pride.”

Was this a call to woman up or a punishment for trying too hard? Being too determined? A slap-warning to better watch out?

Was I holding on to something too stubbornly?

The Tarot cards’ Fool said that sometimes to take big, bold, “foolish” chances is the answer.

The Magician added that it’s time again to draw strength from the realm of spirit, trust the will of the higher self and that opportunity is afoot if I take action to seize it.

The Lovers talked about sharing the treasures of our heart with another.

Over the weekend the bruise changed into the shape of a kiss.

“You are loved,” my friend Deb commented.

My fierce, chin up, ambitious self is loved?

I got into magical boho arrows and sacred geometry flowers adorned yoga pants, grabbed my ReBelle power tee and walked to my espresso two streets away.

“Rebelle with the cause of me” is the mantra on my recently designed shirt. The cause of ME…

Falling was my fault, I thought. Mea Culpa.

I have a bucket list Los Angeles, which I check off creating videos for IGTV, “What I love in LA and the outfits that get me there.” I wanted a diary of my fancies and also did not want to regret missing out on what I came here for. A not so serious side note the bottom says, “Interview Brad Wright”, and “talk to Lana Wachowski”, (client of my hair dresser!) screen writers and movie/TV making professionals I look up to in admiration. I probably wouldn’t get to that…

Chin up to the cause of ME…

I would so regret living somewhere else in the world and never having acted on a dream I worked on so many times but buried it in business ideas from being a life or style coach to opening an online store. I was guided by the need to make money rather than my initial spark; the script I gave my safe job and life up for three years ago, the one I’m just a tad afraid of because it’s so BIG.

This is about Mea Culpa, my manuscript Mea Culpa. The cause of ME is to balance an ancient betrayal in my trilogy of redemption and love.

My life had been structured by a feeling of guilt, going back to an underlying medieval story re-awakened by my parents and continued in many adventures. I had written the first draft of my screen play “Mea Culpa”, when I arrived in LA two decades ago. I had tried many times, studied screen writing, went to conferences but never finished it. The ending, the solution did not feel right. I recently discovered but why acting on it. This project would take too much time…

The chin punch just became another clue in my journey; to regain my trust of sacred timing, that my script of life is perfect as it is. The solution of Mea Culpa is the beginning of a new life, no matter if it will be a trilogy written anywhere in the world or a TV show finished and pitched in LA.

BUT - I will only get my answer when I am brave enough to put the bottom of my bucket list up to the top. Transform the Fool who was tripped by her foolishness to walk on high plateau shoes up a rough hill to the cool fool who takes a bold step.

A punch on the chin can knock you out - and into a new adventure.

Put your shields down to live life fully

My fierce sister’s at Forever Fierce Revolution interviewed me for their newsletter #shieldsdown.

I love the questions Deb Guitierrez asked.

#ShieldsDown began in January as a movement within the movement of Forever Fierce.  It is being courageous, vulnerable, and brave enough to take off your armor, let your shield down, allow yourself to be seen, to be understood, and to know you have something that someone needs to hear.  It's okay to be who you are, the one with the battle scars, and to know you are not alone.

If you were to give a name to your shield, what would it be?   
 

I always had trouble finding names for my books or businesses.  The only perfect name I found so far was for Luca, my son.  For three weeks he was called the "baby" while I tested dozens of names, which didn't fit.  Finally the name Luca clicked.  I realized only later that it meant "light".  It turned out to be an intuitive and foreshadowing choice as I let him shine light into the darkest corners of my psyche.  I wanted to be aware and free of my "stuff" and not see his world through the veil of my fears and needs.  Being authentic and transparent, I helped him grow into his true self, not my expectations.  My son was my first "shields down".

It was a journey, not a given, and I did not lower my protective shield against a world that had hurt and disappointed me.  I was still trying to prove that I, "just a girl", was good enough to be loved.  I went through struggles and purgatories to make my point.  I was a warrioress with the cause of my freedom and actually collected swords for a while.  I baptize my shield "Battle Star", symbol for a journey in which a star will be born from the ashes of her battles, a confident woman open to give and receive love.
 

Is there an experience in your life or moment when you decided it was time to let your shield down.  If so, what experiences unfolded for you?
 

Hitting 60 I started the Ageless Rebellion; angry about ageism and afraid "to go down".  This was it; I had to find and embody my true power, my ageless essence and blueprint.  In the process, my urgent NO to aging turned into a playful YES to life.  Instagram became my amazing sidekick.  Every day I posted a true feeling, newfound viewpoints or "truths".  My hashtags became my mantras.

I created an Avatar, the vision of my fearless self and my undying inner joy no matter the battles.  My name loosely translates into Angelic Queen's Wisdom.  What a journey it was to wiggle in her boots and to begin walking my truth.  She is my deeper power unfazed by experiences that hinder me to be "real".

Not yet fully saying yes to myself, I bought a ticket to FierceCon last October, but felt resistance to get in the car and drive 16 miles.  I was afraid not to be seen, understood, to be too different.  So I arrived late.  Literally with cold hands and feet I entered the room where empowering stories were shared on stage.  Several women in the audience looked up and, recognizing me from Instagram, they smiled, happy to see me.  Hugs, kisses and open-minded conversations after the presentation softened my resistance.  To be brave enough to hug somebody I thought didn't like me was a step into personal freedom.  It was true; if I wanted to be loved, I had to be love.

The vibe of acceptance and openness of many of the nearly 100 women let pieces of my armor drop.  I took this safe place with me into daily life.  It is okay to be me.  It's okay to tell my friends, "I love you right back".
 

Is there something you believe will manifest this year by being more open to living with your shield down?
 

I had a dream as a kid where a friendly person invites me to come closer and when I do, he slaps me in the face.  Recently, it appeared again when a woman friend made me regret that I had opened up to her.  To see "old stories" as what they are, stories from the past, and leave my battle star shield in the basement, manifests new friendships as it means that I can give without agendas or fear.  I can let go of "good or bad" expectations.  I might even be open enough to meet my knight, who also let go of his shining armor.

Writing my memoir with the mantra of shields down let me feel deeply into my past.  I saw the beauty of being guided and always protected even when I thought I had to fight against the whole world and on my own.  Not being guarded has made my writing so much more alive as it allows me to see and feel so much more.  I am present on every page.  It's truly magical.  I intend shields down to be part of my book's success.
 

Is there something you want to inspire or encourage others to do, see, feel or be, to be brave enough to let their #shieldsdown?
 

Remember how good it feels to realize that others aren't perfect either?  That there are stories behind often glossy facades; struggles, pain or losses, fears and hopes that make people human, approachable and - lovable?  Many of us want to see the deeper levels of others.  I personally am bored when everything is nice and all questions seem to be answered.  We are humans because we want stories of all colors.

The first step is shields down to our true self.  Self love lowers our shields.  We love ourselves no matter what the world might say and that is power.  The additional benefit is when seeing our world through the eyes of self love we see so much more love in others around us.

#Shieldsdown is a process.  I do little exercises almost every day.  From my experience, even if you're not a writer or have the intention to publish a book, writing your story is a wonderful tool to go deeper and feel your truth.  It might be different than the stories you remember.

Exercising our authentic selves on social media can be a challenging and revealing path, as what we consider interesting might not always be immediately appreciated.  How can other people see us when we don't show ourselves?  I applaud myself when I don't delete an authentic or heartfelt post on Instagram, which doesn't get my usual count likes.  Shields down is an empowering tool, not to post for likes, but to put a message out we feel is important, enlightening, rattling, uplifting or entertaining.

When we are in alignment with a message that truly matters to us it will eventually matter to the right people and #shieldsdown attracts and expands our like minded tribe with similar goals.  When we step into our #shieldsdown persona with passion and creative fun, like wearing a new outfit, we eventually become what we wear.

Sign up for other power posts at Catherine Graceo.

Witches, courtesans or flappers; it's hair liberation time.

"The artist must create a spark before she can make a fire, and before art is born, the artist must be ready to be consumed by the fire of her own creation." ~Auguste Rodin~

The Spark

You call yourself a rebel”, one of the women in my Ageless Rebel group commented, “ why are you not going natural and gray your hair?”

“I tried,” I answered. “What grew out was this dirty mush of dark blonde and gray; I looked terrible.”

Who wants to look dirty and gray, duh. But curiosity stayed with me. Months later I found a gorgeous, white long-haired style wig in my mail box from wig maker Lucy at LA Beauty Wigs. It sat on a mannequin for three weeks. I was scared and drawn to it at the same time.

I get these spurts of bravery. Go for it. NOW. So I did. “Let’s see how I look with white hair” was my spark.

The Fire

On a peaceful Sunday with church bells ringing in my mind I tried the wig. I threw on an outfit that felt right, intuitively and without much planning as often, and we did a set of photos.

After I pushed away a slew of critical voices, my inner bullies, who bitched that this was bizarre, too theatrical, too silly and that it’s not Halloween I felt a weird shiver that elated me. This is goddess-y….

I had chosen a transparent black dress over a black bikini and looking at the photos I realized I did not portray an esoteric goddess a la Chris Griscom but a sensual Aphrodite with a heavy dose of courtesan. The courtesan is my deeper story, which has guided and haunted my life for decades and she’s frequently showing up to remind me that I have to see, feel, understand and“resolve” her.

“It’s pretty witchy,” commented my son.

Witchy? I didn’t want to look like a witch….

The fire of my story began to burn.

When my mom brushed my tousled hair when I was a tomboy kid I cried that it hurts too much. “Who wants to be pretty has to suffer,” she answered. “You don’t want to look messy like a witch.” I kept my long shiny hair curled and strawberry blonde for decades; disrupted by a few unfortunate perms, styles and horrible yellows and a few daring attempts of letting my hair down messy and wild.

Hair can be as much drama as power.

“It's just hair!” said my ex when I was complaining and swearing at my super short, spiky hair do, which I had chosen in the 90’s after my son was born. My ex had annoyed me asking not to wear high heels (I always wore heels) and bright red lipstick ( I always wore lipstick) as I “was a mother now.” I refused to be a traditional mom; to give my son the chance to grow up being who he really was I needed to be free of old beliefs. I wanted a dare; a new kind of power; become a straight forward, focused warrior protecting my child no matter what. No more nice girl; my long hair was symbolic for the “sexy girl” and what I really detested was the touch of “bimbo blonde” - it had to go. Cutting it off was giving my ex and society’s expectations the finger. I was in great company; for the rebellious flappers in the beginning of the 20th century cutting their hair was liberating them from having to be demure women; bobs emboldened.



But now my short practical cut with its punk-ish vibe felt too boyish; I had pampered my male attributes for far too long. I had been a fierce rebel in a prettied-up woman body as I had hated belonging to the “weaker sex.” The short hair was a physical expression of my past story, a symbol for flexing my muscle and being my power. The disappointment of it feeling so wrong became an awakening, my first step into longing to understand what female power was. Maybe I was the bow not the arrow and being a woman was the power I had been looking for.

Just hair? Why is hair such an emotional thing? My ex was right in it’s being just a material entity, and yet it a bad hair day can change moods, attitudes and even evoke feelings of grumpy despair and not wanting to face the world.

There’s so much more to it than vanity.

Hair is an expression of our health and mood, our mindset and soul; it’s our trademark. Our hair do is right there in other people’s faces; what they see first when they meet us. Hair is what people identify us with.

When our hair style aligns with our truth, confidence is born even when in a dress that’s so not you.

What does our hair mean to us? To our souls? Our stories?

The effect hair has on our psyche is born in ancient stories, which are with us in our genes or collective memory.

Hair is part of magical, mystical storytelling.

Rapunzel’s lover came to her because of her hair, Medusa with her snake head froze people into stone and the Egyptian goddess Isis gently aroused her dead lover, Osiris, back to life by caressing his body with with her silky, long hair. Fairies and aliens with otherwordly power are depicted with mystical long white hair and, staying in Hollywood; I loved the witches of Eastwick.

Hair has a dramatic history.

Women were regarded dangerous for centuries and many attributed their sexual, seductive power to their hair. From the fourteenth to eighteenth centuries, long-haired “witches”, often women brave enough to stand up for their knowing of herbal and other healing powers, were burnt at the stake as conspirators with the devil. They were stripped naked, put in a white gown of purity and their long manes were cut off.

Women’s long hair was hidden, wrapped or cut to diminish or eliminate female power in every century. Women’s head were shaved to humiliate them publicly.

Hair can be a personal revolution.

When we drastically change our hair it can cause personal revolutions. Short hair can make us feel “fucking fantastically free” and a white (purple, blue, pink…) mane can pull us into our feminine magic and stories we might have rejected or dismissed before.

“Angelica, your hair!!!!”

Working as a wedding planner for a restaurant in California I was told to wear frumpy, non-sexual dresses and put my hair up. I called this decade of my life my “purgatory.” I figured this punishment was my karma for having been a seductress in another life time or at least having her memories torment me with guilt. I accepted humiliation because something in me said that I was “bad.” I cried and sweat, cursed and lamented my way through it ending in a car crash - my fault - that nearly killed me. I had accepted deprivation of my self and my fury had to unload itself somewhere.

My purgatory ended in an explosion and it took me five years to rise from its ashes.

I am embodying my female power every day a little more and my outfits are an amazing sidekick. I am still surprised sometimes about the revelations and stories they guide me to.

When my son said that I looked witchy I jumped backwards. I can play with archetypes of demanding goddesses and accept the sinful courtesan as one of my foremothers but witches? It wasn’t so much the evil witch who scared me or the “silly” fairy tale of magic, it was their real history; they were living, breathing, healing and empowering sexual beings who were murdered for the audacity of wanting to be free.

Many of us are simultaneously scared of and fascinated by witches, by magic and mystery because we are simultaneously scared and drawn toward our own personal sexual and spiritual power.

Healing is about expression, so if I have the witch in me I shall let her free and see how she feels - like an outfit.

My hair looked flat this last month, waves did not want to hold, the color seemed lifeless and it’s structure was tired. I am drawn into the developer scandal in Los Angeles, personally attacked by the relentless greed of men who ruin entire neighborhoods and thousands of people’s lives. My powerlessness and tiredness showed in my hair.

Witches were said to unleash hurricanes when letting their hair loose.

So I might just do that.

For you who like quotes and women who run with wolves, I love these three by Clarissa Pinkola Estés

"Fairy tales, myths, and stories provide understandings which sharpen our sight so we can pick out and pick up the path left by the wildish nature. The instruction found in stories reassures us that the path has not run out, but still leads women deeper, and more deeply still, into their own knowing. The tracks which we are following are those of the Wild Woman archetype, the innate instinctual self....”

"To adjoin the instinctual nature does not mean to come undone, change everything from right to left, from black to white, to move from east to west, to act crazy or out of control. It does not mean to lose one's primary socializations, or to become less human. It means quite the opposite. The wildish nature has vast integrity to it. It means to establish territory, to find one's pack, to be in one's body with certainty and pride regardless of the body's gifts and limitations, to speak and act in one's behalf, to be aware, alert, to draw on the powers of intuition and sensing, to come into one's cycles, to find out what one belongs to, to rise with dignity, to retain as much consciousness as we can."

"It's not by accident that the pristine wilderness of our planet disappears as the understanding of our own inner wild nature fades," Estés adds. "It is not so difficult to comprehend why old forests and old women are viewed as not very important resources. It is not such a mystery. It is not so coincidental that wolves and coyotes, bears and wildish women have similar reputations. They all share related instinctual archetypes, and as such, both are erroneously reputed to be ingracious, wholly and innately dangerous, and ravenous."

Ruffled for success

“What about ruffles?” I asked my styling client who wanted to add femininity to her “nicely put-togetherness”, which consisted of pants, blouses and jackets. Her corporate job of two decades and the demand to look “professional” had taken over; she had lost her playful joy of dress ups. Her sensual femme barely had a chance to peak through at parties or dinners with the hubby.

Outfits in which we hide an important part of ourselves for a longer period of time can make us loose essential shades of our identity.

She laughed nervously. “Anything”, she said after clearing her throat, “but ruffles. They’re so girly and proper. I feel like Debbie Reynolds.”

I understood, I had a similar weird shiver when pulling out the ruffled tops at the clothing store. I love their bombastic 2019 runway expression but in real life their fragrance was that of demure wifies of the 50’s, of Diorissimo and Chanel No 5. When I was into fragrances they were called “Poison” or “Obsession” depending on my state of mind. Give me a femme fatale in Brazil not a brain reduced cutie in Stepford. It turned out both are equally challenging to me; under the demurely ruffled blouse lies the longing for the child-like sweet feminine as much as the black satin of a femme fatale holds the fear of sensuality.

It is interesting that many of us associate ruffles with smugly virtuous, well behaved females. Because their history says otherwise.

Each time I had tried ruffly dresses or blouses I had felt a shiver of nicety nice. But the ruffle sirens lured me and not only because they are a 2019 uber-trend. What I love about trends is that they invite us to reject them emotionally and when we check into our emotions and accept the dare we are surprised.

So I went for it, carefully.

When I tried the polka dot blouse with its ruffles cascading down it’s front under a frontier soldiers frock made me feel like a fierce rifle swinging boy. What the heck is masculine about ruffles?

It dawned on me; way back they had been an adornment for both, men and women. There was nothing “feminine” about them, they were theatrical uni sex “game on” for everybody. More they were statements of confidence, sometimes as in aristocratic snobbery of being better than everybody else, stiffening it up in their proud posture producing neck ruffs and other times they are connected to rebellion in our collective memory. Revolutionaries wore ruffles in various time periods and countries. When flimsily dressed courtesans needed to wear under garments in the winter they ruffled them to make them more appealing to their lovers; and the rest of the female world followed. Marie Antoinette, flappers in the 20’s and flamenco dancers in the 30’s frolicked in their frilly.

Ruffles make me feel light and easy, close to lift off…

Ruffles were fierce, voluminous, indulgent, wildly frilly, deeply decadent or simply different than the rest of their time. They were out there “I AM…. ” statements and folded themselves into every decade making waves since over 700 years counting the ruffled veils of the 14'th century.

Except in the 50’s. Ruffles became wholesome as if the 50’s were doomed to make everything “nice”. Dior and Balenciaga went for it and, paired with little pearl necklaces, ruffled dresses became the ultimate crispy Stepford wife wardrobe.

They explosive re-appearance this year fits to the motto of empowerment fashion; they are big, demanding attention and taking a breath. They demand “do not to freaking judge me!!!” I am art. I want what I want.

I am woman.

Ruffles are the perfect combination of a playful, sensual, soft female being and her theatrical forward-thinking, risk taking power. Wearing ruffles with confidence means to embrace our history; to wear our battered woman hood and the legacy of all the women standing up for our rights. The ruffle is royal and revolutionary, two sides of our powerful strength because as women we are both; wise and willful queens who are about to regain their strength and rule their queendom with creativity and love.

As they were worn by both genders, they also predict a new understanding; an elevated closeness of male and female.

Power ruffles are ultra girly, crazy avantgarde and cowgirl confident; the theater of “I am woman.”

Every break out of our routine gives us clarity of who we are and what we really want, every risk taken makes us more fierce and style is a woman’s power creating play ground.

Long live the power ruffle.

I picked exquisite ruffle designs for you from low to high prices, small and big designers. Enjoy. Test one if you haven’t already and discover your surprise.
I especially love No 1, such amazing theater for so little money.

Do you have a favorite?

Super exciting stylish buy

Stella McCartney Ruffle One-Shoulder Cotton Blouse

Sipaya

BCBG MAX AZRIA

ECI

MOON RIVER

Bella Flore only $19.99

STATE Tiered Ruffled Top

JED Women's Loose Fit Keyhole Neck Ruffled Sweater Fabric Top by Jed

Vince Camuto

ROMEO & JULIET COUTURE

Romeo and Juliet Couture

Karen Kane

Ella Moss

Cotton Mood

Alexander Wang Silk Ruffle-Accented Top

Stella McCartney Star-print silk-blend top

Alexander McQueen

Alexander McQueen

Alexander McQueen

Alexander McQueen Ruffled poplin top

Alexander McQueen Ruffled silk-crepe top

Alexander McQueen

Alexander McQueenruffled top fitted dress

Barney's NY

Prada Ruffle Colorblocked Leather Top $$$$$

See all Images J KOO

Transparent outfits are a metaphor for #authenticity

I like the mysterious touch of sheer and medieval layering.

“Before I knew you, I wasn’t this nice,” I said live in a FB group with 10,00 women followers. I was high on being seen and accepted during a women’s brunch in Redondo Beach. So I spilled a couple beans. In my journey through judgements I had turned myself around; instead of judging I saw the beauty in every one of the women in my groups, okay in most. When we don’t judge the fear of being judged shrinks.

“I have been called a bitch,” I continued. It was a freeing, hilarious moment as nobody, me included, had expected it.

I was wearing what some might call a bit of a risqué outfit; a snake print mini skirt over patterned fishnet stocking and over the knee shiny boots, a sheer top over a shiny faux leather bustier and a transparent long sleeve maxi dress veiling it all. I like the mysterious touch of sheer and medieval layering.

My choice was a result of my months long journey into authenticity and foreshadowed my moment of truth. The black multilayered outfit, which I had chosen consciously as a statement of both my strength and need of protection, empowered me like a subliminal message; “be transparent.”

It was not just telling a tidbit of my truth but also acting on my feelings; to hug women without knowing if they would like it or hug me back. I embodied my feelings without letting fear and doubt be in the way. It had often before kept me in “wait and see’ mode; show me first that you like me… But if everybody waits we don’t get to know each other.

When our “second skin” becomes a part of our daily creativity we communicate with deeper parts of ourselves open to receive winks from our inner knowing. In that moment we are also linked to the Zeitgeist, picking up and being uplifted by what’s in the air. Empowerment is becoming a world wide motto since millions of women marched for their liberation in 2017, following a long tradition of protests organized by women and now showing in many of the designers amazing art.

It’s a powerful dynamic; fashion designers reflect on and express our desires to be fiercely unique and in return, when manifested in their outfits, support our goal with their design.

The hastag #authentic has 9.2 million followers.

Even in LA where people are used to a lot of fashion extravaganza showing my bra or bustier under a transparent top is an act of bravery and makes life into a runway. Like a model we have to adapt a new way of walking, the empowered walk of straight up confidence. It doesn’t work every day; it’s more like exercising woman power.

Tip 1 from the fearless front

Make an appointment with yourself like going to the gym with the mantra “today I exercise my femininity”. Art openings, theater premieres or performance art are perfect occasions for your tests. People anywhere in the world are much more likely to love and not judge what you wear expressing your self amidst arty vibes.

Tip 2

Watch your feelings, let your dare empower but also talk to you. Are there any memories, images, ideas or judgement coming up? Let them guide you. Hand writing your experience can give you insights into your deeper stories.

For me it always was either hiding or being my sensual self. Experimenting with low cut dresses and bustiers like courtesans in the 16th century or Madonna in the eighties provoked my fierce; each dare rattled one of my accumulated fears and beliefs. I have a deep connection to medieval times and the story of a courtesan since I lived in Portugal and experienced “weird” memories and researched a mysterious story. When I followed the winks and hints of my intuitive dress ups over the years I saw the archetype of the courtesan showing up several times - and each time I ran. For me it’s time to dive into her story. Is it time to watch your inner movies?

If you are interested in your very own challenge outfit I’d love to guide you into your desire or fear to be truthful and authentic. There’s so much more than what we have learned to see in daily life. We will use playful dress ups with the happy end (and beginning) of a sheer outfit carefully selected for you.

Contact me for your adventurous outfit challenge.

Sheer is also an expression of our sensuality. How far do we want to go? What does it mean to be a “dangerous woman” and prosecuted for our powers for centuries? More about the risks of sensuality coming up soon.

I found a couple exquisite items for your exploration into transparency.

Click to buy.

And a few more…

I always loved the sensual in demure…

https://rstyle.me/~cz-aO4wO

Challenge outfits, dress up for empowerment

“You can’t wear shorts, mom,” said my teenage son rolling his eyes, “please!!”

That was 14 years ago. I didn’t. Last week they became my challenge outfit. I went to TopShop. I tried. I loved. I bought. HOT PANTS. Those tiny things I wore in the seventies.

I took a deep, deep breath and wore them on the streets of LA a week ago. My 28 year old son applauded me from the depths of his Millennial cool.

“Hot pants” are one of my challenge outfits as it pokes my worry of being “too much, too loud, too silly” and going deeper it is my fear of being judged an “easy woman”, in my medieval memories I was burnt on a stake as the wild and free “la putain”.

“Dolls Kill”, the teenie bopper store for “Misfits and Miss Legits”, provided the cute sheer top.

Of course this moment of empowerment has a story.

It started with “Look at us.”

For our afternoon meet in a Pasadena cafe Barbara Holmes and Loretta Sayers both coincidentally dressed in comfy plaid. I came in a pink jumpsuit. “Sure, you did.” We laughed. Barbara pointed under the table, where even our sneakers told the same story; comfy, comfy, trendy and not so comfy.

“Let’s play dressing you up, ladies”

After my yearlong, sometimes careful and other times over the top outfit journey it was time to be a siren and call others to the stage.

“ReBelle your authentic inner beauty.”

“How?” asked my friend Barbara who is known as Barbie.

“We are like like scientists; we experiment,” I answered.

“Let’s ReBelle Barbie.”

We did. We evoked our inner tomboys with bib overalls. We slipped into long coats and played the Matrix, “We know Kung Fu.” I convinced Barbie to try a jumpsuit, (see below) which women often feel they shouldn’t do or can’t fit in. I love the jumpsuit’s Barbarella power and feel that every woman should have one. I want to own 365 one day:)

We successfully re-belled Barbie, her inner child loved to play and her feminine power was high lighted. Both of us had a blast.

That’s when I got the idea of challenge outfits.

I went on a hunt, let my intuition take over and mailed Loretta her challenge; a trendy metallic pencil skirt.

Loretta says, “At first I felt awkward.. But within minutes I felt empowered. I started to think that just maybe I could pull this off. I felt pretty yet powerful. After texting Angie a photo, we chatted for a bit and she helped me come up with this: I felt like a Goddess rising from the ashes of a ruined castle. “ The outfit inspired Loretta to the beautiful ruins of Knapps Castle.
”Boom! 💥” she wrote.

Outfits are feelings. On my designer hunting trip through LA I discovered a piece for hiking girl Patrice.

Patrice says on her blog, “my style is usually more on the conservative side,  my idea of being rebellious is wearing red or a statement piece of jewelry… Angie… sent me something that would blend a “little sexiness with my healthy hiking style.” Her exact words. The moment my jacket arrived, I almost screamed with joy.  It was so pretty, so interesting and somehow, so me!  That is what good stylists do, they help you express  yourself in unexpected ways. Angie thank you for helping me find my “inner rebel”  I will be allowing this side of me to come out more often!”

Boom No 2 and 3💥

Outfits talk.

Outfits aren’t just something we throw on to hide or to impress, they can be the best sidekicks to discovering stories about ourselves we might have forgotten or did not dare to look at, and they’re always empowering when we play. They are mother’s little helper to crack the style box or mindset we might not be so happily stuck in after all.

#metoo, said my next “power girl to be” using the formerly dark and depressing hashtag in a newly transformed empowering way. The journey with Rebecca from “Are you ready to organize” has begun. She mixes and matches women and junior sizes from 4 - 10 to fit her body shape perfectly. As a fashionista I dreamt of the easy way out; can I please be a size Zero, be skinny and wear everything? But then, where’s the creative fun in that? As a teenager I popped pills to stay under 100 pounds. In my 50’s being a size 6 going up to size 8 I stopped buying clothes, which made me so unhappy that I stopped eating or having champagne after my stressful job. Just saying; I come from a lifelong fight with body issues and self acceptance. Today I swagger between 2 and 4 and have the mix and match, improvising and innovating fun I loved all my life. I am happy when I can create.

To accept and love challenges means to be in for personal expansion. “We don’t groe old, we grow,” I wrote three years ago when the Ageless Rebellion started.

On my journey to find tops for busty women I got into plus sizes. After scrolling through the first ten online stores my rebel was awakened. Where are sizes 10 and up in the sexy, trendy-cool sections? What the heck is this need to call women over 50 and over size 8 “MATURE” and make them hide their assets? Come back to read the story.

Some women say life begins at 50. I’m a late boomer, I “woke late” to be my inner hurricane; I started to write my new story at 60.

Outfits truly were my sword swinging sidekick on the road to ageless.

Let’s play dress up, ladies; get your challenge outfits.

The age of empowerment fashion

“Would you like to dance with me?”

I put my Tequila shot down. I was a country dance newbie and being asked by the maestro of the two-step scene of Santa Fe evoked goose bumps.

“I am honored”, I answered smiling brightly. It was the 90’s and I studied art therapy at the South Western College, a program based on the amazing work of Carl Jung; life changing in its vibrant archetypal approach. I slid off the bar stool and my Harley Davidson cowgirl boots hit the polished floor with a metallic “clack”. “You can do this,” they said. I had learned that things can be imbued with thoughts of strength and resolve. Cowgirl boots were my “power objects”.

I love to look back at my life and discover foreshadowing of the finest; fashion had weaved itself into my life like a repeated reminder of where I was going even when I built houses for a living. It’s two decades after finding courage in cowgirl boots and I am a style coach using outfits for clarity and empowerment.

“We wear our soul on our sleeves
A.W.

”

The Ageless Rebellion started three years ago with WE WEAR WHAT WE WANT and say what we feel. Now woman power has landed on designer’s desks with more than a little metallic “clack”; it’s a closer to a revolution. If we use it as such.

Fashion is born in our Zeitgeist.

Women marches and hastags like “Metoo #enoughisenough and #womenpower have saturated the air we breathe and changed the outfit climate. Vegan fashion week and Fashion Revolution Week hopefully can help reduce the threat of climate change before it’s too late.

Designers have called 2019 the year of fashion empowerment.

For decades the industry was a dictatorship for many women or, on the other end, caused resistance and fights against it. Today our demands have changed fashion into a democracy. Designers like Nili Lotan even use the “right to choose” as theme of their collection; she creates “separates” with the call to “make your own outfit."

"I really do design for myself," said Nili in an interview with W. She is 59 and doesn’t only own her storefront on Duane Street and studio space on Walker in NYC’s Tribeca but her place in the industry. "I’m a real woman: I have kids, I have a husband, I travel, I work, I entertain—I do all the things we all do. My clothes are the answer to my life, and I think that's why so many women see them as the answer, too.”

Hastag #authentic has 9.2 million followers

If ever a designer was made for the #MeToo moment it would be Miuccia Prada, a woman who has spent her career exploring the shifting, often uncomfortable, balance between femininity and force. Or, as she put it: “The whole point of my job is trying to understand how women can be powerful but also feminine, and be believed and stay respected when everyone assumes those things mean you don’t care about clothes.”

Messages from deep thoughts, 528HZ is the sound frequency of love, to in-your-face calls to action were recently put on a pedestal by Victor&Rolf’s fantastic theatrical dresses.

Women’s liberation is everywhere, expressed in Pantone Colors, which are decidedly optimistic, vibrant or peace evoking, in combat boots, sexy warrioress faux leather, scandalous vinyl or slogan T-shirts with female empowerment messages. They are everywhere now from the “We Should All be Feminists” T-Shirt on the catwalk at Christian Dior to the myriad versions sold for International Women’s Day. Christopher Kane has always harnessed a lot of criticism for feminist “propaganda” and designers like Christian Siriano, Chromat, Eckhaus Latta, and Gypsy Sport also go further than their seams by sending a variety of body types down the runway, while PH5, Creatures of Comfort, and Kes all included “real” women in their shows.

The very slowly accepted plethora of body types, all ages and races and their manifestation in styles as different as Mars and Venus is a testament to our need for tolerance of our differences.

It is a democratic treasure chest; slip into an uber feminine Zac Posen and wear it with Dior’s 60’s protest sign clothing, wear combat boots with bonbon colors and ruffles, high heels with work woman overalls and glam in sequins in the day time. Layer like the multi level personality you are and let your outfits do the talking. Wear rubber boots with drawstring nylon tops, fishnet tops under massive pleather coats with faux-fur cuffs, frivolous bustiers under shy sheer cream colors, let fringing fiercely swing into your day and metal colors make you feel strong. Let your curious inner child play with bows and bio degradable plastic. Use tulle under or over, sheer or embellished with jewels or flowers.

Pull yourself out of the rut with pulling your neckline off-center.

Be brave. Whatever that means to you.



The industry hits the jack pot by using our zooming in on our hastags and using buzzwords to sell their collections but then, even if some designers only “mean it” commercially it is our responsibility to use these trends as our mantras and statements.

Womanhood is a gift, a privilege and a pleasure. To know and believe that is power and comes with the responsibility to make it so for all of us.

Courage to me is to be authentic and real. To discover “me” and own me. It took me three years from the moment I used the slogan “be a badass at any age” to today where I finally know what that really means. Woke to me means to step into our slogans and into outfits that mean it and mean ME.

How we relate to our outfits is deeply personal and that’s where it starts; make it PERSONAL, really personal.

What empowers me might not empower you.

It is your journey towards your power that counts.

“What does this matter to me?
”

When you dress up ask with Marie Kondo “Does this bring me love?” and with me “what does this matter to me?” Does this resonate with my heart? My soul? My mood? Does it express the power I need today? Vibe the frequency of people I want to meet? Does this shout or whisper my message?

I love to see the beauty in empowerment fashion but worldwide women power is far from reality. The democracy of fashion is in her baby shoes; our task is to push it further, wider and give every woman her power objects until we all believe that we ARE power.

We have to stop running to authority and let big institutions decide for us; it has not brought us far, better it is bringing us to the moment of extinction. When we let our peers teach, motivate and inspire us, when we listen to the voices next to us, buy from our friends and not billionaire’s owning the world we have a chance to make this a world for the people.

Join me in telling fashion stories that empower creating real democracy in real life.

#womeninspiringwomen

Athleisure, sequins, transparent fabrics, feathers, bold pop colors, combat boots, faux leather, over the knee boots and the easy version of message tees… come back to my empowering fashion pics.
”Ruffle it” is next.

Ageless Rebel in the Forever Fierce Revolution

When you own the power of truth…

“A rebel is anger on steroids,” said my college friend Dieter. He should know, I thought. He had been the feisty singer of a punk band in what he describes as an “NYC ghetto” at a time when Patti Smith, David Bowie and Lou Reed climbed to fame.

Against his warning I still named my movement “The Ageless Rebellion”, this was three years ago. I was proud to be a rebel, always fought against political or social imbalance, for the underdog, women’s rights or acted against the attacks on our environment. “There’s this other women group,” I told him, “the “Forever Fierce Revolution”, they have revolution in their name also.”

“I have the right to be angry,” I thought, “there’s so much in this world to be upset about.”

I was angry with anything unfair because my life had been unfair; I was “just a girl” and as such too sensitive. As a misguided tomboy I was too loud; I was simply too much, not worthy to be loved. Writing the story of my decades of rebellions I saw how I had fiercely and mostly successfully fought for my right to be as creative as artists and as powerful as business men, but that in my fights were the tears of an angry child feeling abandoned and powerless. Anger is born in disappointment and sadness; when I entered that part of my truth my world began to change. I sat in it. I cried.

Anger becomes enlightening when we make it a journey, a starting point not a status.

“Transform your crap into gold” was my “I show you, world” motto.

Self love had been a unknown mystery to me. My life coach made me dig for it; I needed not just a shovel but an ice pick. The moment I told my mirror image “I love you” without a sarcastic grin was magical awakening to the deeper levels of me. I now had the power to go back to the beginning; to my dreams, my innocence, my childlike curiosity and passionate love for life. I had the power to change. Not the world outside of me but my thoughts, my feelings; my story. Every tantrum and every one of my fights held a pearl of wisdom; what I truly longed for. My No contained the hidden story of my yes.

“ReBelles,” I wrote in my group, “let’s re-claim our true inner and outer beauty.”

I now used the power of No as a tool to eliminate what hindered me to manifest ME, to be present in my “real”. I finally entered what I had called “ageless” as my answer to ageism. “There is no age.” The full meaning of ageless though revealed itself in my journey; it is the sacred space where time does not exist, where we are pure essence and see the world without preconceived notions.

When we’re not trained like Eckhard Tolle though we usually don’t stay in the “present” for too long, we’re in and out and each time we’re “in” we get another glimpse of who we truly are like gifts from our inner goddesses.

To be authentic isn’t done by saying so, it is a journey with hick ups and ripping bandages off with whimpers or screams.

Writing the memoir of my rebellions I had watched the movie of my life and how the different voices inside of me had manifested in my outside world; my judgements and doubts but also my power and compassion and my search for love. I was deeply touched by what I had not noticed before; that life had always been on my side and my own beliefs let me reject it. I would go back to the beginning; to be childlike and trusting. A rebel for a wonderful world where women virtues rule and the planet is safe from greed…

“Seriously?” asked my inner critic rolling his eyes.

“What’s with that silly dream to be 16 again?” a woman I hoped to be friends with asked. “Why the heck are you so childish? And why would you want to change the world? That’s really stupid.”

Watch out, babes. On the path to our inner freedom we get tested; do you still believe that “you’re not okay the way you are, dear” ?

I finally said NO. I left the stage of guilt and fear.

NO is power when we become rebels for the truth of us. Anger is healthy when it is transformed into awareness of what we really want and make it happen.

Anger is the fire that burns the bullshit we have let ourselves accept and believe; all what’s left in the ashes is the magical dragon of our truth.

In my social media journeys I discovered that as much as I theoretically had disliked comparison and competition I compared myself to others; I was either better or less. I became a watch dog of my jealousies and entitlements; I was to own what really mattered to me, to walk my talk and step into the shoes of my fearless Instagram avatar. Not only that; on my fashion therapy adventures I literally stepped into the mindset of styles; I got to be the hippie, the goddess, the yuppie, the boss babe or sexy Barbie. I got to understand and appreciate more facets of the female mindset every day.

Repetition is a master of change; when we love who we are we love the women around us as equals, every day a little more.

Three years ago my FB group, Ageless Rebel, had been an initiative of “me against ageism”. The Forever Fierce group was a team creation of fifty fierce female bloggers making the world prettier, friendlier, happier. I liked their women virtues but I was “different” than them. I was a rebel, my movement gave aging the finger. They weren’t rebellious enough. They were much too nice for my taste. Nice made me suspicious.. Why did they call me darling?

Meeting 80 of them in real life last October was a revelation; some of the women had the same fears entering the conference as me and many of them really meant their hugs. I felt my doubts, suspicion and judgments shrinking. I wasn’t as “pink” as them was I?

Unconditional women communities celebrate our uniqueness, I stated, feeling “different” though was separation.

On outings with my new and re-discovered “old” women friends in LA, with Barbie, Loretta, Mindy, Teresa, Elizabeth, Rita, Rosanne… we played dress up and got to be 16 again, spun stories, made plans or traveled into the myths of our past. I listened. I asked. I saw them without the filter of needs or wants. They reciprocated but seeing me and not only that they asked me to be who I was. My childlike enthusiasm as much as my fierce Rebelle power were encouraged not condemned. I was inspiring others, how amazing was that.

In the middle of February, right after the official love day of Valentine’s 2019, I playfully and effortlessly fessed up to one of my secrets in a live conversation broadcast to the 6000 member strong group Forever Fierce group.

“I wasn’t this nice before I met you girls…” The group had helped me to re-discover the sweet girl who allows herself to love pink. Thank you. What a relief when you can say thank you from your heart.

Freedom is not to have agendas.

The sweetness of others can wear you down. I couldn’t stop smiling; I had arrived. I felt liberated from my inner bullies. All what was left in the ashes of my past at this moment was the magical dragon of MY truth. I met women’s eyes thinking; I see you, I love you. I meant it.

I am what I see in others.

Self love gives us permission to be everything we are; even the parts of our past we wanna kick to the curb. It’s our journey that made us and the journey wants to be embraced like everything and everybody else.

Love is our medicine; kindness is an alchemical potion.

Please go ahead; call me darling and tell everybody that you love them even if you only mean it a little bit. Being kind to somebody today might change their world.

“Joy is contagious”, commented my friend Sophie Davis. “That’s it right there,” I responded. “A new kind of rebellion.”

I remembered a quote I had made up last year.

“In a society ruled by fear and anger every conscious smile is a rebellion
”

I am a pink rebel in a pink revolution. What better than to be warrioresses for love, together.