Going Miami on Y'alls

So Miami, particularly South Beach, is sort of a trashy, dirty, sexy place-in mostly entertaining ways, of course.  Despite my lack of religious upbringing, I still have the remnants of a puritanical approach towards the body, particularly my own, and I'm anything but flirtatious.  I'm not a prude by any means-I swear, I drink, I hang out with guys-I just have some strange conservative elements of my persona, which I can't explain.  (For example, I tend to avoid clothes that showcase my assets, especially by Miami standards.  T+A+Legs.)  Why?  I can't really explain it, but somehow being considered sexy has always scared me. It could be a strange strain of feminism, or just my understanding that cleavage should always be understated, rather than omnipresent.  Or that short shorts and miniskirts have no place in regular society.  I don't know how I came up with these conclusions, but I think it must have originated from my consistent displeasure with my body over the last ten years.  I have always known that I'm not deeply and profoundly gorgeous, nor am I thin by any American standard.  I think those insecurities led to me choosing to wear t-shirts and jeans for most of the last ten years.  I never was thin enough to wear a bikini, and my mom rarely let me wear anything that bared anything.  I think there was always this need to shelter me from the reality of my body-"Don't wear short shorts, you're not as thin as the other girls.  Don't wear spaghetti strap shirts-your cleavage is much bigger and your arms aren't as small."  I don't remember exactly what my mom said to me in high school, but she was always concerned that I would wear something inappropriate, which as we all know now, is absolutely ludicrous.  When I was shopping for my formal dress last Christmas, I received a strange echo of my high school experience-every dress I tried on was too tight, too saggy, too low in the front, too low in the back, etc, that by the end of it, I figured I might as well wear a graduation gown for the number of options that I'd have.  I was lucky to find a beautiful gown that was both conservative, sexy, and classic, but in many ways, it demonstrates my own issues with my body, as well as my mom's insecurities with her own.  

Let me preface this all by saying that I'm a bit thinner than I used to be (not oodles, but 20+ pounds less than two years ago) and that my accidental weight loss has gradually ushered in a new level of bodily security.  I've also been engaged in a fabulous flirtation with a dreamy cellist for most of the last month, which also boosted confidence immensely, despite the fact that I've totally peaced out, and have no idea if anything more substantial could've happened.  Anyway, the point is, I'm using Miami as an excuse to buy some ridiculous clothing, get a few more freckles (I don't really tan all that well), and embrace my assets.  To celebrate that, I bought a minidress so mini that there are shorts built into it, therefore making it a romper, I believe.  I am also scanning the sale racks everywhere for some sweet tank tops, since I currently own 2.  This is not to say that I don't have any musical or cosmic goals-instead, this is just own of them.  I'm not a superficial person, most of the time, and perhaps it's time to indulge a little self-preservation and image promotion, while I learn how to play in an orchestra.  And Miami is going to help with all of those things.