Guys, guys, guys.
I've been wearing a belt.
Why is this a big deal? Well, I stopped wearing belts in high school, when I realized that having that extra bulk at the waistband encouraged t-shirts to ride up, and I was more likely to expose my lush and luxurious treasure trail. I would try to pluck, bleach, dissolve, and shave it away, and then wear the belt once the foliage had been culled, but eventually I just gave up and hung all my belts at the end of the closet.
They've been hanging there for years. I have one, sugar-pink leather, that I never really had much opportunity to wear. I bought it at a leather store's closing sale, and the only reason I bought it was because my best friend at the time had been lusting after a red one. She was very recently feeling low, so I was putting together a care package for her, with books, an oil diffuser, lip gloss... you know, all the things a teenager could want. As the sale was two-for-one, I got her the red one she wanted, and myself the pink one. I always thought of her when I thought of wearing it. And I just could never feel confident enough to wear it.
The other day, I was feeling colorful in the nice weather, and thought of adding that extra splash of brightness via a cinch at the hips. So I pulled out this neglected belt and slipped it through belt loops I had never used except to yank my jeans up over my hips. I realized it didn't matter if my shirt rode up that day. Because the treasure trail was blond, barely noticeable. Maybe the belt was out of style, but I wore it with pride.