Last week I went to this big deal, fall fashion show at a suburban Kansas City boutique called Clothology:135. (Link below).

Actually, the show wasn’t held at the store. No way could the shop accommodate the 200+ women, all amped up to buy new stuff. So, it was presented at a nearby event space.

You may not think the Midwest could post in terms of fashion, however, there were some pretty cool looks strutting down the runway. Granted, we’re not talking the glitzy, gigawatt glamour I’ve experienced at fashion shows at Neiman Marcus over the years, but hey, this bunch still brought something special.


The best part was after the show. As two hundred super-charged women clustered around the hanging racks to shop. Boy, how women love to dig through a rack, moi included!

I mean, we’re talking gaggles of girls picking through the rails of wool, cool pleather jackets and dresses, funky jeans, tops, tops, tops and a thing called a Sherpa that women were going nuts over. An oversized ‘shacket’ styled garment made from soft, fuzzy bathrobe-worthy material in several bright colors.


Amongst the scrum, I bumped into a woman named Julie who’d been sitting across from me at our table during the show. I noticed a small tattoo on her inner arm, near her wrist. It simply said, Grace.

“Who’s Grace?” I said, over the buzz from the herd of women pilling through the racks with their friends.

Julie’s eyes teared up and she took a sharp breath, as she shifted some clothing draped over her arm.

“It’s not a person,” she said. “It’s a reminder. I’m sooo hard on myself. So, so hard. Awfully hard. So I got this tattoo with my son, when he got one, to remind me to give myself grace.”

“Do you think you’re a perfectionist?” I said.

She paused, took another breath, scanning the room, as women bustled by with heaping armfuls of outfits to queue up ten-deep in the four lines to pay. Next to Julie, her friend Becky nodded and mouthed oh yes, an empathetic smile forming on her face.

“I think it’s part of being a woman in our society. I try so hard and do so much for everyone else. So every time I see this,” Julie patted the tattoo, “it reminds me to give myself grace.”


I went home that night without a bag. Which, if you know me, is unheard of. I told myself I’m moving. I didn’t need done more thing to pack. So I walked out without this adorbs Chief’s cap.

After I looked at the selfies I snapped wearing it, I thought, why didn’t I buy that? I even had a coupon.

Couple days later, I was out near the store, stopped in and snatched it up. I gave myself Grace.

Where could you give yourself some Grace today?