I love me a good tiara. You know—the whole Disney princess type of tiara. The problem is that we aren’t allowed to wear them anymore unless we are brides. Even then, there will always be a Snark Cadre whispering, “does she think she’s a princess?” a little too loudly as you walk down the aisle. 

 

The problem is that I don’t want to be a bride. I just want to wear a tiara. Is that too much to ask for? Sure, there’s the whole birthday, New Year’s Eve and/or bachelorette tiara, but those are cheap plastic and although I will admit to enjoying them it’s not quite the same. I want jewels or at least rhinestones. Something that require me to lift my chin and hold my head at the proper angle so it doesn’t fall off. 

 

Let’s face it, there are absolutely zero reasons for a forty-five-year-old woman who isn’t in the market to get married to wear a tiara in public, and I think that’s a shame. I’ve missed my window for prom queen (I didn’t peak until 40) and while we’re at it, why don’t grown-ups get to wear prom dresses either?

 

As a child I daydreamed of this beautiful life filled with elegant cocktail parties and fine dining. The last time I was at a fine dining establishment the people sitting next to me were in jeans and hoodies. Look, I love my yoga pants and hate freezing for fashion, too. I get it. But in my opinion we have become an overly casual society.  I love to buy pretty dresses, but there’s really nowhere to wear them to anymore. 

 

I’m not saying we need rigid dress codes. I’d just like an occasional Ball for regular people. A chance to dress up with a (fake) fur stole, gorgeous dress (tux if you prefer) and a mother f-ing tiara on my head. 

 

I will admit that my hair is generally sort of tragic and a tiara would solve a lot of problems for me. But more than that, I’ve never felt more deserving of a tiara. I mean, I’ve hit middle age. I’ve finally done some shit I’m proud of. Besides, I’m raising children. I don’t have a whole heck of a lot of glamour going on right now. Know what I do have? A sore back from sitting at the ice rink all winter and baseball fields all summer. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy going to the games. I have made a whole surrogate family of sports moms. But I feel once one reaches 45 a tiara is an earned right. 

 

Who do we crown now? Teenagers voted queen of something or other by the majority of their peers or judges at pageants. Young women promising their lives to someone in marriage. That’s about it. Why are those roles the only crown-wearing achievements?  

 

How about get a college degree, wear a tiara for a month. Got a promotion, did an art installation, wrote a book, acted on stage…all crown worthy in my opinion. Have a kid? Tiara. Bought my first home? Crown me.  Learned to ride a horse or a motorcycle or a jet ski...built a deck or plunged a toilet…there are so many accomplishments that merit recognition. Heck, sometimes just surviving another trip around the sun is an accomplishment greater than anything else. 

 

I could form a committee. We could go around with a pile of tiaras and award them to deserving women. And of course, we’d wear our own as well. We could start a trend. Who’s with me?