One evening I was invited to a farewell party for a friend at a club in downtown DC. I stepped in the establishment wearing a curve-hugging black dress with my strapped ankle, black stilettos. My waist-length boxbraids were framing my minimally made-up face and I sealed my wardrobe with a burgundy lip. You couldn’t tell me I wasn’t looking red-hot that evening. Since my sexy vibe was illuminating throughout the evening, a higher than usual amount of guys try to spit their game to me. Even one of them was willing to be my photographer for the first half evening. In the words of Carrie Bradshaw, I couldn’t help but think, was I feeling really sexy because of the way I was dressed?
