The Two Fridas

I finally broke my Halloween streak of dressing up as a witch after years of putting on dark lipstick and feeling especially spooky. I wasn’t tired of being a witch. I might even go so far as to say that I almost missed not pulling my black lace cloak out of my closet in celebration of one of my favorite holidays. However, I decided that it was time for a change inspired by one of the strongest, most admirable bad girls I know of.

Dressing up as Frida Kahlo didn’t feel like I was putting on a costume. The giant flowers on my head and the thick eyebrows painted on and the bright red on my lips all gave me confidence and strength that I didn’t think would come. In her life, Frida was fearless. She painted feelings other people shied away from acknowledging. She left her husband when their relationship wasn’t good for her, even though that meant she was going to be on her own. She took actions to support what she believed in. She struggled for most of her life against physical disabilities, and still she wouldn’t let the pain deter her from doing the thing that she lived for: painting. I find her art, and her life, inspiring. I might not dress like Frida Kahlo everyday of the year, but she is someone I think about when I’m feeling scared or too small for an obstacle in front of me. And being able to embody everything Frida represents for the night? Worth hanging up my hat for.


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