Red Dress Sessions and a Giant Party

Some of you may already follow The Bloggess, but for those who don’t – she’s wonderful. She’s irreverently funny and honest, and she’s also amazingly kind-hearted and compassionate. She has a huge following, and frequently mobilizes them to take part in huge, crowd-sourced efforts to help each other out in wonderful, and usually hilarious, ways. I encourage you to check her out if you haven’t already, but specifically it is one of these off-kilter (but nevertheless well-intentioned) romps that I wanted to write you about today.

Back in 2010, Jenny (that’s The Bloggess’s name) somewhat accidentally started something called the Traveling Red Dress movement. In her own words,

“I want, just once, to wear a bright red, strapless ball gown with no apologies.  I want to be shocking, and vivid and wear a dress as intensely amazing as the person I so want to be.  And the more I thought about it the more I realized how often we deny ourselves that red dress and all the other capricious, ridiculous, overindulgent and silly things that we desperately want but never let ourselves have because they are simply ‘not sensible’.”

So she bought a gorgeous, red, strapless ball gown and wore it proudly. And then, having accomplished what she needed out of it, she sent the red dress off to someone else who needed a “red dress experience”. And that person sent it on to someone else, and the experience has continued for over a year.

“This week the red dress will begin a journey, traveling from city to city so that other people can wear it and love it and feel as special and vivid and dynamic as they already are.  Because sometimes we all need a little red dress to remind us of that.  So today, think about what it is you need and were too embarrassed to ask for.  And then go f*cking do it. Wear a ball gown to the grocery store.  Invite the neighbors to have a picnic on the front lawn.  Get that novel out of your sock drawer and publish it yourself.  Stand on a bus stop bench and belt out a song for the waiting strangers.  Find a playground swing and remember how it felt to fly.  Find your red dress. And wear the hell out of it.”

Recently, the red dress idea was brought to life again when Jenny came out on her own blog in an extremely honest, brave, and vulnerable post about her struggles with depression, anxiety, and self-harm. In her own words again,

“When cancer sufferers fight, recover, and go into remission we laud their bravery.  We call them survivors.  Because they are.

When depression sufferers fight, recover and go into remission we seldom even know, simply because so many suffer in the dark…ashamed to admit something they see as a personal weakness…afraid that people will worry, and more afraid that they won’t.  We find ourselves unable to do anything but cling to the couch and force ourselves to breathe.

When you come out of the grips of a depression there is an incredible relief, but not one you feel allowed to celebrate.  Instead, the feeling of victory is replaced with anxiety that it will happen again, and with shame and vulnerability when you see how your illness affected your family, your work, everything left untouched while you struggled to survive.  We come back to life thinner, paler, weaker…but as survivors.  Survivors who don’t get pats on the back from coworkers who congratulate them on making it.  Survivors who wake to more work than before because their friends and family are exhausted from helping them fight a battle they may not even understand.

I am safe.  My disorder is fairly mild and is becoming more controlled.  I’m in therapy and I’m not in danger.  I avoid triggers and I’ve found therapies and drugs that are helping.  I’m getting better.  But I sort of feel like I can’t completely heal from this without being honest about it.  So here it is.  Judge me or not, I am the same person I was before.  And so are you.  And chances are that many of your friends, family and coworkers are dealing with things like this.  Things that are killing them a little inside.  Things that kill people who don’t get help.  Silent, bloody battles that end with secret victors who can’t celebrate without shame.  I hope that this post changes this somehow.  I hope that you feel safe enough to be honest about the things you are the most ashamed of.  I hope you have someone there telling you ‘It’s okay.  You’re still the same person to me.’“

In the midst of the overwhelming response on her blog and on Twitter, the idea of the traveling red dress was revived. The original dress is a bit war-torn and tattered, and Jenny mentioned that she was saving for a new one to continue the movement. Immediately, readers began posting links to red dresses they owned, offering them up to whomever was in need of an uplifting experience. Soon, a flickr group was born to help those offering and those seeking red dresses to find each other. The movement was reborn, and has grown exponentially. People are finding hope through the simple, silly, self-indulgent act of putting on a red ball gown and being proud of it.

I think it’s wonderful.

The point of this post (I know, you were wondering where I was going with this, right?) is that I want to be involved. I have to be involved. The whole tenor of this movement resonates deeply with me. Like most, I struggle with the concepts of self-worth and confidence. Like most, I often feel worthless. Like most, I have experienced my own struggles with depression, anxiety, and fear. It was in part these experiences and struggles that prompted me to become a portrait photographer.

Now, I take photos of kids, and of families, because having those photos and those memories is important and valuable. But the real heart of what I do, of what I want to do more of, is taking photos of men and women who need to see that they are beautiful. Those of us who work behind the camera are blessed with the opportunity to capture the true face and true beauty of the person before us, the face and beauty that they sometimes can’t see, and show it to them. Prove to them that they are beautiful. It may seem frivolous to some, but to me it is one of the most valuable gifts a person could offer or receive.

That said, I want to throw a red dress party. I want all my girlfriends to come – online friends, offline friends, near and far, old and new alike. Teenagers, 20-somethings, moms, and grandmas. I want you all to wear a gorgeous red dress (whether it cost $10 at Ross or $100 at the mall). I want us to celebrate being women, being beautiful, being brave enough to put on a crazy, wild, over-the-top gown and strut our stuff. I’ll be there, taking pictures, capturing those wonderful moments of self-discovery and fun and laughter. And I’ll be wearing a red dress, too.

And when it’s all over, for those of you who want to join me, I’ll be donating my red dress to someone else who needs it. And if they want me to take their picture in it, I will, for free. Because beauty and confidence and red dresses are something to celebrate. It’s the beginning of something I’ll be calling “Red Dress Sessions“, and that I hope will continue for a long time to come.

Who’s with me?