My gf asks if I'm ready. I look up from the computer screen where I was performing a last minute check on the concert details. She's in the belly shirt she bought a while back. This will be the first time she's wears it. There was never an occasion before to warrant wearing it, I think. Grad school is a place of sweatshirts and low quality cotton t shirts... or maybe for those suffering from imposter syndrome, dress up button shirts/blouses and khaki pants or whatever the female equivalent is.
We are walking alongside our apartment to our car. I look at her in her new outfit. To wear anything other than what other people wear is to make a statement, an expression, I think. And before I found it detestable that anyone make statements through such a superficial medium, but right now I find empathy and pride -- proud of watching empowerment grow -- within seeing the process, the drafting, of a statement.
I pull up Spotify on my phone and put Snail Mail's album on. We get through two songs before we arrive at the venue. I want to tell her how proud of her I am. But I don't need to.