I love being a girl. I love spending that time right before a night out with my gals, all of us getting ready together with entirely too many curling irons cluttering the counter than is truly safe for a room the size of Harry Potter’s, pre-Hogwarts.

I love putting on makeup and talking about TV show characters as though they’re my close friends and allies. And dang it, I love watching chick flicks and shamelessly eating almost an entire pizza by myself whilst wallowing in my own self-pity. I also love not being judged for it, but rather, being joined by my best friend as we complain for a little while before deciding that dancing it out is truly more effective way of “sticking it to the man.”

But the thing I love most about being a girl? Being able to dress like one.

Few things put as much pep in my step as a well-crafted girly outfit. I feel like a woman of the world when I put on a flouncy skirt or pop on some pretty pearls or slip into some classic heels. In fact, there’s a solid 95 percent chance I’ll bat my eyelashes uncomfortably in your direction or slip on some white up-to-the-elbows gloves and give you a wink and a nod.

Dressing like a girl makes me feel, well, like a girl. It makes me feel pretty, and elegant, and like a damn delicate flower. This is the precise power of clothing. It can entirely change your mood and outlook; it can make you feel like the next Jackie O, or like the next Miley. It can bring out your inner aggressive rugby player or put a twinkle in your eye that could compete with the likes of Shirley Temple.

And although feeling sporty or sultry is fabulous, I’m a firm believer in the power that is feeling like a girl. More specifically, in the power that is feeling like a girl in a _dress_.

The first time I _really_ wore a dress was during my freshman year of high school (let it be known I was essentially raised a boy until about age 14 when I first discovered Glamour magazine). Sure, I’d been forced into them before for piano recitals, weddings, fancy dinners and things of the like, but I’d always viewed it as a task more painful than getting stabbed in the arm thrice.

Sometime in September, my mother and I set out on the arduous journey of finding a dress for my very first homecoming dance. My excitement level was at about null, and my scrawny, adolescent shoulders were slumped in distaste. We rolled up with style to the dress shop in my mom’s Honda and mentally prepared ourselves for the grueling process that was about to ensue.

I ended up picking up a black dress with a sparkly tulle bottom and spaghetti straps, if for nothing more than to entertain the thought of myself in a sparkly tulle dress. Oh, how ludicrous! What tomfoolery!

When I slipped into that dress, however, I was a changed woman. I suddenly no longer felt like I should be playing football and rubbing dirt on my face. Instead, I felt like I should be figuring out how to use that terrifying contraption you use to lengthen your eyelashes or talk to boys about more than just how I could beat them in an arm-wrestling competition. For the first time, I felt girly and I absolutely loved it.

For whatever reason, the idea of dressing girly has received a negative connotation in this lovely world of which we live. Girls who dress girly are viewed as prissy, materialistic or prim. We often hold ourselves back from dressing too girly in fear of being perceived as a gaggle of Chers from “Clueless.”

And this is silly. Dressing girly makes us feel great and is oh-so-much fun. So next time you’re debating if that dress is too much for just a day of classes or a lunch date with some pals, wear it anyway.

We’re girls. And it’s OK to dress like it, because ladies, we run the world. Just ask Queen Beyoncé.