As women, we are coerced into believing that the pinnacle of play is a white wedding day. Lulled into sweet lullabies of horse drawn carriages and sword wielding princes, we spend hours fantasizing, scheming, and planning, for that one perfect moment when we will be the belle of the ball, donning our glass slippers and running for the chapel as the clock strikes twelve. Dong, dong, dong, dong, dong, dong, dong, dong, dong, dong, dong, dong, dong.
Our fathers walk us down the rose-petaled aisles of this final curtain call. Soon enough, we are bearing mini-me daughters - little girls who we channel all of our pent-up need to play dress-up into. In them, we pour a desire to pretend that our reality is just one choice among many.
If I were a bride (which I’m not, but planning a wedding has got me thinking about it), I would wear a little white or black hat with white netting covering half of my face. I’d play a role. I’d be someone else - someone who, perhaps, I once knew. Or, maybe, I once was, and have long since forgotten. I’d play the fool, and I’d play the clown. I’d play the myriad of ways with which there are to move through space and time, because there is more than just one way.
So, ladies, grab your partners and head out to a local establishment. Appear to arrive alone, not together. Don an alias - your Leia and he’s Hans - and pretend you’re strangers. You bump into each other at the bar, and the façade continues. You flirt. He buys you a drink. You exchange these new names, and begin down a road of pithy, small talk. You try to get to know this new other. Who is he?
Most importantly, who are you? Who is this character that you are playing? What is her name? How does she move? How is she different from you? How is she the same?
For, playing dress-up is integral to the life of all human beings. We all need to knock ourselves out of our comfortable repetition and back into the magical realm of intuition, of listening to what comes. What does come? What does that voice whispering in your ear say? Mine just said, “Breathe.”
I play dress-up, and I think we’d all be happier in our everyday lives if we all played dress-up more often.
