There’s a point where beautiful things stop being enough.
I began noticing what they’re not saying.
What they don’t carry.
What they leave behind.
And once I saw it—
it’s hard to go back to wearing things that feel empty.
A few pairs of earrings were the catalyst.
I didn’t pay much attention.
But something about that museum visit lit a fire in me.
As if my ancestors were whispering to me through the fabrics that they wove with their hands.
And then we went to Vigan.
And I saw many handcrafted goods.
Some were for the kitchen.
Some were decor.
And some, for wearing.
I entered a store that sold inabel pieces.
They were beautiful.
But very expensive.
After owning a piece,
I now know why.
I treated my inabel skirt as something very special.
I initially wanted to save it for special occasions.
But one day, I visited the boutique that made my skirt.
I was talking to the sales attendant when this elderly woman came out of the dressing room.
She looked very elegant in her locally made clothes.
I can tell because of the fabric.
And that’s when I realized that I should I appreciate my skirt more.
So I started wearing it on days when I want to feel extra special.
Extra beautiful.
And that’s what the fabric makes me feel every time I run my fingers over the beautiful weave.
Special.
Beautiful.
Chosen.
My inabel set a high bar in my wardrobe.
I now look at fashion pieces differently.
Even if they’re beautiful.
Especially if they’re beautiful.
I’m done with beautiful things that say nothing.
I now look for stories, heritage, culture, craftsmanship.
Pieces made by artisan hands.
Pieces that tell a story just by looking at them.
It won’t be a sudden change.
It will be gradual.
And that’s what makes it even more special.
I look forward to the day when I open my closet and see that each piece has a story to tell.
—-
With elegance and quiet fire,
Lady E
Founder, Glow by Lady E
An editorial space for stories, art, and intentional living
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