Defintion of Me

Before I go to off work, it's always a must to look at the mirror. I have to check if my reflection is sparkling. Those new Gucci shoes must be shined. I have to make sure that the blouse I'm wearing was never worn twice. The outfit pieces must complement each other in terms of color. Not to mention the nails, the hair, and the hair accessories. Yeah, that's what I do every morning for about an hour and a half. Don't get me wrong here. I ain't one of those it-girls who do this out of stupidity and for the sake of beauty, I'm quite the opposite, actually. But we'll elaborate on that later.

So I go off to work, and when I reach the office, I greet my colleagues with the usual 'hi-hello'. They're off gossiping about what's in and what's out, who-dated-who, and who-did-who. They take a look at me for a sec and this girl goes, "Shoes...oh, shoes! blah blah, I just the most a-mazing shoes out there in DKNY!"
That's it? After almost two hours of slaving over my outfit, this is what I get? The recognition that I have shoes on? Come on, people!
This just shows how unrecognized I am. Personally, I don't mind--and I prefer-- being unpopular, but when you aren't known for something, you get pushed around alot and they won't respect you. They won't even give you the last chicken salad left in the cafeteria. I made an effort, and I traded my sneakers and backpack for Prada and Gucci. And although it didn't get me far, I stuck to that because, I like Prada.
Here I am, ranting about nothing when something was about to change me.

One day, I was getting ready to go to the Sunday Mass, and I felt that that day was sort of special in a way, so I decided to dress a little better than the usual rest day-outfits I wear. I had chosen a dark-brown, V-shaped blouse with a laced, brown and white skirt. I also opted to wear strappy flats.

So we went to church, and it turns out that it was a mass intended for little children: to tell them and explain to them the reason why we celebrate Christmas. And it was so cute the way those kids were smothering the priest just to get his attention. There was a children's choir too, and they sang beautiful songs.
Fast forward and we're having the communion, and I turn around to walk back to my place, and I see this little girl. I suppose she was one of the kids in the choir. She was downright staring at me... at my shoes! I saw the way she looked at them. She looked like she wanted them. I was very surprised by this.

Other people would kill to be in my position. They would kill to have a pair of shoes...regardless of the brand. And here I am, ranting. I'm ranting about something useless.
And I thought, screw them.
Screw the people who think you need Prada to look like a star.
What others think of me is nothing compared to what I think of myself. And I don't think I need Prada to define me. I define myself.

I'm sparkling, what are you?