Would you wear a divorce dress? (Related: WTF is a divorce dress)
According to the recent/tragic end of Blake Shelton and Miranda Lambert’s beautiful, wonderful, what-we-all-thought-was-a-perfect union, divorce is real.
So in an era in which about one third of all marriages end that way, it makes sense that divorcees have come to commemorate their new life chapters by re-invigorating their wardrobes. Less sensical, however, is designer Nicolas Aujula’s newly-minted Divorce Dress™ which cost wearers upwards of $5495. (Unless you want the “short version” — that runs for a measly $4700.)
Let me explain: a London-based designer, therapist, and astrologer created a Divorce Dress when he noticed his clients had problems moving on after their marriages ended. So, he made “a stunning dress created to celebrate your divorce, in an emerald shade chosen for its significance of the healing heart and creating emotional balance.” One version is long, one version is short, and all are made from Italian silk (which explains why they’re more expensive than an entire wardrobe, full stop).
But like, why would you want the same divorce dress as another person? Under Aujula’s logic, these pieces are meant to make a woman feel powerful. But what’s powerful about being one of a million other divorcees, wearing the exact same dresses in the exact same shades? Is this a cult? Are these uniforms? Do you saunter up to another woman at a party and say, “Oh hey — me too,” while pointing nonchalantly at your similarly beaded corset? Do you meet once a month in said dresses, plotting the demise of the person who broke your heart? Do you, at any point, think, “Well, I hate emerald, so this sucks.” Can’t you just participate in a shopping montage like every movie character we love and respect?
I mean, would Jennifer Coolidge’s Legally Blonde character wear a divorce dress? No: because her clothing isn’t what made her relationship fail. (It was because trailer dude was a bona fide monster.) And also, her aesthetic was boss.
So dial it down, Nicolas Aujula. And instead of urging women to spend actual doll-hairs to look uniform chic, maybe just tell them to buy literally any other item that makes them feel powerful — or even something they can wear more than once, or out, or to the mall, or to work, or to anyplace but the divorcee convention I’m sure you’ll drum up next.