Because heart-led dressing is always in style.

I don’t mean start wearing colorful propeller hats.

But when you ask a toddler what they want to wear, they’ll almost always pick something slightly too big or too small, entirely weather-inappropriate, and most definitely not suited for the occasion. Sparkles and tutus for daycare. Their last Halloween costume to the grocery store. Because really—why wear jeans when you can be Batman?

The other day, I spent ten minutes offering outfit ideas to my daughter, who was firmly set on wearing a white and yellow summer dress, two sizes too big, to a chilly Easter dinner. I eventually gave up and turned to my own outfit.

She watched me quietly as I changed again and again—too cold, too chic, too warm, too bloated.
“If it were only up to me, I’d wear a flowy summer dress too,” I muttered.

But… who else is it for?

So I did. I walked to the other closet, pulled out a pink linen dress, and changed.
When I reentered the room, her face lit up. She squealed, “YES MOMMY!” and pulled me into the living room to twirl. We spun in circles, our skirts floated around us.

In that moment, I became fluent in her language—the heart language.
The “it doesn’t hurt anyone, so who cares?” logic. The one so many of us forget.

And it made me wonder—how many innocent choices do we censor each day?
Just to blend in a little better.
Maybe to match the latest Instagram aesthetic.
Very likely to avoid the judgment of a person who long abandoned their own heart-led spark, whispering something about us to their frenemy at the café.

No, I won’t show up to the office dressed as Wonder Woman. But how many times have I toned myself down—skipped the playful accessory, or left the pop of color at home—just to “look the part”?
And honestly… are we truly successful if we’re always dressing against our joy?

The days I’ve received the most compliments from strangers…
Were the days I dressed like a child.

Not for anyone else, but because I wanted to. Because I felt like the main character of my own story.
The way a toddler walks into daycare with shiny new shoes, sure they’ll run faster just because they sparkle.

From now on, I think I’ll try dressing like a child a little more often.

And if our dresses twirl when we dance, even better.