Hey Reader,

So this is a little embarrassing—but for years, with a few exceptions, I defaulted to “functional” when it came to clothing.

I used to dress for fun. Back before kids. Before running for office. Before we moved to San Francisco and had to live on our own, broke and budget-bound.
That’s when practicality started creeping in. Slowly at first—and then completely.

By the time I had kids, it had—with just a few exceptions—become a way of life. Think of my style as more school drop-off, less dopamine dressing.

And when those kids were small and every inch of space was claimed for something more pressing—bunk beds, bins of toys, Pack 'n Plays and hoverboards—and I needed a space of my own in my little house, I squeezed an “art studio” into my bedroom closet.

Which meant my actual bedroom closet didn’t exist. And since we shared one large closet, neither did Ed’s.

Instead, our clothes were stuffed into baskets. And more baskets. And even more baskets.
Under the bed. Next to the dresser. On the dresser. Baskets galore.

At first, I could still find things. Sort of.
But eventually, when I couldn’t—or when I stopped buying anything new—I told myself it didn’t matter. That dressing well was a first world problem. That there were more important things.

And there definitely were: my children’s well-being, world peace, humanity. But I also did myself a disservice.

I started showing up to my own life like a woman who didn’t matter as much as everyone else.
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Who’d stopped asking what feels like me? and replaced it with what still fits, what’s on top of the dryer, or what my mother kindly passed down—even if it never really felt like mine.​
(Hi Mom. Still love you!)
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​There was no ritual. No care. Just survival mode in stretch pants and hand-me-down tops.

Weirdly, the moment I was supposed to show up and be visible—when I ran for office—I got a whole bunch of “office-y” clothes… and I’ve never felt less like myself.

I didn’t know how to look professional and still reflect my personality.
I didn’t know how to be taken seriously and take up space.

Around that same time, a very professional friend walked into my bedroom, looked around, and said—dead serious—
​“It looks like a college kid lives in here.”​
Friends, it was not a compliment.
And she wasn’t the first to notice.

Years earlier, when I was prepping for TV interviews about My Life with Bradley Cooper, my childhood friend—the brilliant LA stylist Gina Lamanna—was helping me over FaceTime.
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She said, “Show me your closet.”
And I swear, there was a full beat of silence on the other end when I replied, “I don’t have one.”​
(More about Gina soon… she’s my first guest in Season 3.)

Then this past fall, after years of precariously stacking folded pants into a long-outgrown basket, something shifted.

I moved my office into the room that used to be the kids’ playroom. I bought wardrobes—like actual adult storage. Ed’s stuff finally got its own closet. And I started noticing things.
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Like what I was putting on.
How it made me feel.
And—this was new again, after years of not knowing where this crap was—how I accessorized.

Right this minute, I’m wearing a sundress. Not because I had to. But because I wanted to.

And listen—I know this is two weeks in a row I’ve talked about clothes. First the hair tie, now the sundress.

But this isn’t about fashion. Not really.

It’s about how women show up in spaces we weren’t always allowed to occupy.
It’s about what we’re taught to tone down, tuck in, and apologize for.
It’s about the quiet ways we disappear ourselves—and the radical decision not to.

Which brings me to this week’s guest on Roar: Samantha Harman, a former newspaper editor turned personal stylist whose work is about so much more than clothes.

Samantha helps women reclaim their space. Their image. Their power.
She breaks down why what you wear is deeply tied to how you show up—and why the patriarchy would love for you to keep thinking style is “just fluff.”

We talk about:

• Why most wardrobes are secretly museums of our self-doubt
• How personal style is a form of leadership
• Why women shapeshift, and how to stop
• And why buying pants at the grocery store might not be the empowerment move you think it is

🎧 [Listen to our full conversation here.]​

If you’ve ever said, “Where would I even wear that?” or found yourself in the same hoodie for the third day in a row, this episode is for you.

XO,
Danielle

P.S. Your wardrobe isn’t frivolous. It’s a mirror. And if yours has been saying “You don’t matter,” it might be time to talk back.

P.P.S. Forward this to a friend who’s ready for a little style rebellion. (Bonus points if she’s currently wearing leggings with no plans to yoga.)

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